


Black Sweet Blood Mouthfuls

by Kingkiwi



Series: Starlight [1]
Category: K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Coffee Shops, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drama, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Occult, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 17:32:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1949964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingkiwi/pseuds/Kingkiwi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakyeon and Taekwoon find themselves with what appears to be a case of bad luck, but things soon spin out of control.</p><p>“Remember, for every dark, there is a light.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from Sylvia Plath's poem "Ariel"
> 
> Crossposted on asianfanfics.com with the same title and username.

Taekwoon shifted sleepily, gently kicking Hakyeon in the shin. The alarm was blaring, and Taekwoon couldn’t reach the clock. Hakyeon grumbled, sacrificing his right arm by sticking it out of the warm cocoon of blankets to find the alarm. He expertly hit the button before pulling his arm back into the warmth his and Taekwoon’s bodies had created. Somewhat maliciously, he shoved his cold fingers onto Taekwoon’s stomach. The man jerked before pushing back as hard as he could and sending Hakyeon crashing to the floor.

That woke him up.

Disgruntled, cold, and vengeful, Hakyeon slithered under the covers, grabbed Taekwoon’s foot, and pivoted backwards, using all of his strength the pull his lightly dozing partner off the bed.

Once Taekwoon’s bottom half was off, he was awake enough to start resisting. Annoyed, he latched onto the far side of the bed, refusing to be moved any further. Hakyeon was already laughing, but the show of resistance cracked him up even more. When he could pull him no further, Hakyeon grabbed the waist of Taekwoon’s sweatpants and yanked.

Taekwoon squawked indignantly and his hands flew from the edge of the bed to his pants, which allowed Hakyeon to drag him all the way off the bed. He was still laughing despite being landed on by 140 pounds of simmering fury. After pretending to wring Hakyeon’s neck for a minute, said man pecked him on the nose.

“I loooooove you,” Hakyeon sing-songed.

Glaring, Taekwoon stood up, stepping on Hakyeon in passing and moving to the kitchen for breakfast. Hakyeon languished on the floor, wiggling a little. “Don’t walk away from me!” he called piteously. A dial clicked as the stove was turned on, and he heard the clatter of a frying pan being pulled from the cupboard. After another minute, when he was sure he was being firmly ignored, Hakyeon gave up and stood to get dressed.

Taekwoon kindly made enough pancakes for both of them. Hakyeon ate with his dress shirt half buttoned and the fly of his pants wide open, more concerned about getting breakfast before Taekwoon changed his mind and ate his share. Taekwoon finished first and went to get dressed, leaving Hakyeon to his breakfast and the dishes.

Both men were ready to leave about the same time, meeting in front of the door. Taekwoon had finally gotten over the bed incident so, grinning, Hakyeon reached up and kissed him on the mouth. Taekwoon glared a little, but reeled Hakyeon in with an arm around his neck and returned the kiss with another short one.

Hakyeon leaned back and straightened Taekwoon’s collar. “Have fun at work. Be nice to the kids. Love you.” Taekwoon nodded, but didn’t say anything. He pulled the front door open, leaving first. Before he could take two steps, Hakyeon smacked his ass and dodged around him, running to the car. “Bye!”

He quickly backed out of the small driveway, laughing and waving, before Taekwoon could get his revenge. Shaking his head, Taekwoon started down the sidewalk, briskly walking to the elementary school that was only a few blocks away.

***

“Bye Taekwoon!” a fellow teacher called as Taekwoon was leaving school. He offered her a short nod of acknowledgement without stopping on his way toward home. The pitter patter of small, sandal clad feet came from the left, growing louder and as they approached. Taekwoon turned just in time to find a small child barreling toward him at dangerous speeds. The boy smacked into his legs, squeezing them in a hug and shouting, “Hi Mr. Jung!”

Taekwoon smiled briefly, reaching down and ruffling the boy’s hair. “Hello Sanghyuk.” He glanced up to see Sanghyuk’s mother hurrying toward them, looking apologetic.

“I’m so sorry,” she said when she reached her son. “Sanghyuk always talks about you and what a great soccer player you are.” She crouched down to her son’s level. “Alright baby, it’s time to let go of Mr. Jung now. We have to go get your sister.”

Sanghyuk shook his head violently, clinging to Taekwoon’s legs. Taekwoon wobbled dangerously and had to throw an arm out for balance. The teacher who had said goodbye to him earlier was walking to her car, but stopped to look at them and laugh, covering her mouth with her hand.

Seeing his mom’s exasperated expression, Sanghyuk gave Taekwoon’s legs one more heartfelt squeeze before reluctantly releasing him. Pouting, the little boy suggested that maybe they should just leave his sister so they could stay and play with Mr. Jung. “But Sanghyuk, Mr. Jung can’t stay to play. He needs to go home.” Apologizing again, she tugged the kindergartener away. Taekwoon returned Sanghyuk’s enthusiastic wave, albeit much smaller, then turned and headed home.

When Taekwoon was less than halfway home, it occurred to him that he had some extra time before Hakyeon was off work. His boss had asked him to stay late this past week, so Hakyeon wouldn’t beat Taekwoon home. Since he had some time, Taekwoon decided that he would take a slight detour to the small collection of shops and boutiques that were only a few minutes out of the way.

Taekwoon kept his pace slow but steady as he meandered toward the specialty shops, one arm holding his messenger bag tight to his side. The area was small, but popular, boasting two small bookstores, that offered out of print and rare books, clothing and shoe boutiques, a candy shop, a florist, and most importantly, Ravi’s.

Taekwoon’s mind had gotten away from him, so he was surprised when something bumped into his leg. A small chalkboard sign, with some of the brightest chalk Taekwoon had ever seen, was wobbling on its stand. They way each letter was a different neon color made Taekwoon think of little Sanghyuk. The bold letters spelled: ‘Ravi’s – We’re located down the steps!’ In smaller text, it listed the coffee deal of the day, which happened to be a white mocha.

Smiling a little, Taekwoon headed down the stairs the familiar set of worn stone stairs.

Gripping the worn brass handle, Taekwoon hauled the heavy door open and was assaulted with the smell of fresh coffee. Stepping inside, he passed a small alcove that was home to a small table and two burgundy wing-backed chairs. To the left, there were tables strewn about, occasionally interrupted by thick wooden beams that supported the ceiling. The red, rough brick gave the entire café a cozy, cave-like atmosphere.

The small shop seemed rough and untreated, but tamed by loving hands. The ceiling was dark, unpolished wood, which made the bare pipes winding across all the more bright. In contrast to the dark walls and ceiling, the café featured bright paintings from local artists.

As Taekwoon reached the register, an employee emerged from the depths of the back room. He was shorter than Taekwoon, though many were, with short brown hair and a prominent nose. His sleeves were haphazardly rolled up, and though he had a black name tag securely pinned to his shirt, Taekwoon didn’t need it.

“Hi Taekwoon, we don’t normally see you during the week,” Ken chirped. Taekwoon just looked at him, not saying anything with slightly narrowed eyes. To Ken’s credit, he didn’t look away under Taekwoon’s naturally heavy gaze.

Taekwoon shrugged slowly. “Hakyeon will be a little late.”

Ken nodded and said, “Well, do you want a recommendation, or the usual two hot chocolates?” Taekwoon shook his head, which was enough for Ken to know that he’d take the usual.

“Whipped cream on only one of them?”

With the tiniest of hesitations, Taekwoon quietly consented, “Yes, please.”

“Alright. Just a moment then.”

Ken disappeared into the back room where the hum of the machinery rang loud.

Taekwoon quietly slipped the exact change due onto the counter.

In a quick minute or two, Ken trotted around the back wall with two insulated paper cups tightly covered with plastic lids in his hands. He carefully handed them to Taekwoon, who nodded once in thanks.

“Have a great day! I hope to see you again soon, and bring Hakyeon with you next time!” Ken called excitedly as Taekwoon turned to leave the small café. He hoped that Hakyeon would like his surprise.

Taekwoon returned to an expectedly empty driveway. He stepped through the gate, latching it behind him with a well-maneuvered elbow, before carefully unlocking the front door, stripping off his shoes, and padding through the foyer. The two hot drinks in his hands made it difficult, but Taekwoon was patient. The house was dark and quiet, something Taekwoon enjoyed after spending the day around rambunctious children.

With the coffee cups gently placed on the coffee table, Taekwoon’s hands were free to pull his messenger bag over his head and place it on the floor next to the couch. He planned to eat a small snack and work on tweaking his lesson plan until Hakyeon got home from work. Flipping on the nearest lamp, he settled into the couch with a pen and his hot chocolate (no whipped cream) and got started.

Taekwoon heard Hakyeon coming long before he actually entered the house. Hakyeon had a way of making his presence known; his absent-minded humming could be heard through the door.

“I’m home!” Hakyeon called out as soon as he entered the house. Taekwoon didn’t reply, but he knew Hakyeon would know he was home from the light in the living room and his shoes in the entrance. A few seconds later, Hakyeon blew through the room, a mess of pants half off, a bag hanging from the crook of his elbow, and his buttons partially undone. He dropped a kiss on Taekwoon’s head on the way to the bedroom.

“How was school?” he called while stripping out of his work clothes.

Silence radiated from the living room.

Hakyeon smiled to himself. “Good, then? Awesome. Work was pretty boring today, though I did see Karen trip over her own feet. I felt bad for her, I did, but it was still kind of funny.” He poked his head from around the corner of the hallway. “Am I a terrible person?”

Taekwoon glanced in his direction, face expressionless, eyebrow slightly raised.

Hakyeon retreated. “I’ll take that as a no.”

A few minutes later, Hakyeon emerged from the bedroom dressed in comfortable clothes. He flopped on the couch next to Taekwoon, making the cushions dip and his partner’s papers tip dangerously to the side. Taekwoon quickly straightened them, glaring slightly. Hakyeon wiggled closer, laying his head on Taekwoon’s shoulder. Sighing a little, Taekwoon straightened his work into a neat pile and slid it onto the coffee table, resigning himself to getting little to no more work done that evening. In doing so, it drew Hakyeon’s attention to the coffee cups sitting on the table.

“Is one of those for me?” he asked, a beaming smile on his face. Taekwoon nodded with a slight smile playing on his own lips.

“You got whipped cream on mine!” Hakyeon was touched by the gesture, knowing that Taekwoon wasn’t one to spoil him too often. He leaned forward off the couch, away from Taekwoon’s side, and grasped the cup with both hands. The hot chocolate had been just long enough so it was the perfect temperature when he sipped through the whipped cream. Usually Hakyeon was too eager and ended up burning his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

The both sat there, finishing their drinks in silence, just pressed close together.

Hakeyon had his head tipped far back, his red hair falling from his face slightly. With a satisfied sigh, he pulled the cup from his lips and placed the empty cup on the coffee table. Taekwoon finished at the same time, and Hakyeon plucked the cup from his hands and stacked them.

“Ravi’s is the best,” he practically moaned. “Thanks, Taekwoon.”

Pleased, Hakyeon scooted closer, almost pushing himself into Taekwoon’s lap. He wrapped his arms around Taekwoon as best he could, smushing his face into his husband’s sweater-covered chest. With a big sigh, he let himself relax fully, warmed when Taekwoon’s arms curled around his back and pulled him close. They both rested for a few minutes, unwinding from their day of work and enjoying the closeness.

Finally, Hakyeon pulled back a little, and Taekwoon loosened his grip. He looked up into Taekwoon’s face and bumped their noses. “Boop.”

Staring down at Hakyeon, Taekwoon bumped their noses. Hakyeon repeated, “Boop.”

He grinned widely, darting forward and pressing a kiss to Taekwoon’s lips. Taekwoon returned it, and deepened it, pushing him back a little with the force. Just as Hakyeon was getting into it, forcing Taekwoon back into the cushions, Taekwoon released his hands. Hakyeon fell backward with a yelp, torso awkwardly sliding off his partner’s legs and going straight to the floor. Taekwoon laughed quietly, a rare real smile curling his mouth and Hakyeon couldn’t stay too mad. “Payback for this morning?” he grumbled, yanking on Taekwoon’s knee to pull himself up.

After he righted himself, Taekwoon got up anyway. “I’ll start dinner,” he said before abandoning Hakyeon on the couch.

Hakyeon only laid dramatically for a minute or two before he gave up and rose to help. “What are you making?” he asked petulantly, poking Taekwoon in the side.

Taekwoon deftly batted Hakyeon’s fingers away and slid over to the fridge. “Stir fry.”

“Ooh! I love stir fry. Let me help,” Hakyeon said, reaching for the ingredients in Taekwoon’s hand.

Taekwoon huffed at him, but handed over two bags of vegetables. Hakyeon fumbled them over to the counter. “Cut those up, please,” Taekwoon ordered, pulling out a pack of chicken.

“Will do!”

Hakyeon was dodging around Taekwoon, trying to get to the trashcan and avoid stabbing anyone with a paring knife when his phone started to ring in the other room. He fumbled the knife in surprise, managing to nick his ring finger. Taekwoon quickly moved his feet out of the way as the knife clattered to the floor.

“You alright?” he asked, grasping Hakyeon’s left hand and dragging it to the sink. He flipped the water on to rinse off the blood. The phone blared in the background while Hakyeon scooted the knife beneath the counter with his foot so they wouldn’t step on it.

“I’m fine,” Hakyeon assured his husband. He twisted the tap, turning off the faucet, and grabbed a paper towel to stem the small flow of blood. “Would you grab the first aid kit?” he asked, but Taekwoon was already pulling it out from under the sink. After making sure Hakyeon’s finger was dry, Taekwoon gently dabbed the cut with antibiotic ointment and wrapped it with a Pokémon bandage.

Hakyeon's cellphone made one final bleat before giving up and sending the call to voicemail.

“Don’t scare me like that,” Taekwoon huffed, holding onto Hakyeon’s hands. He wrapped his fingers around the silver band on Hakyeon’s injured finger, warming the cold metal with his body heat.

“Sorry,” Hakyeon replied, giving Taekwoon’s hands a squeeze.

The phone blared back to life, startling Hakyeon again. Rolling his eyes, he hustled into the living room to answer it, warning Taekwoon about the knife that was still on the floor. “Yes? Oh, Minyung! How are you? Calling your little brother Taekwoon? You’re so sweet. Of course we didn’t forget about the wedding. Give him a sec, he’s right here…”


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks later, Taekwoon and Hakyeon arrived at his parents’ house in Busan. Minyung, Taekwoon’s oldest sister, was finally getting married, and both men were included in the wedding party.

“Taekwoon!” Heesun yelled, barreling toward him in a way that eerily resembled his experience with little Sanghyuk a few weeks ago. He hadn’t even gotten in the front door before he had her wrapped around him in a slightly painful hug. “It’s so good to see you, little brother!”

Taekwoon calmly patted her on the back, returning the hug. “You too, Heesun.”

“Oh!” she said appraisingly, catching sight of Hakyeon over Taekwoon’s shoulder. “And you brought your gorgeous husband. Lucky us, right Minyung?”

Taekwoon’s oldest sister emerged from the depths of the house, followed by their parents. “Leave poor Hakyeon alone, Heesun,” she scolded. “I already have a gorgeous husband-to-be, so I don’t need to try and steal Taekwoon’s anymore.” Hakyeon laughed, accepting a hug from the enthusiastic Heesun. “Don’t worry,” he told her, “You know you’re my favorite.”

After everyone greeted one another, the family moved into the living room, catching up on what they’d been doing since their last visit. Taekwoon’s parents had started a garden behind the house and had piles of vegetables around the kitchen to show for it. Heesun had broken up with another boyfriend, but gotten a promotion at work, and Minyung was caught up in the excitement of her impending marriage to “the stunningly handsome and disturbingly kind” (Heesun’s words) Hongbin.

“Who would have guessed that our stoic Taekwoon would be the first of us to get married?” Minyung said teasingly. It had been the same old with Taekwoon and Hakyeon. Taekwoon loved working as an elementary school teacher, interacting with the little kids and doubling as a soccer coach. Hakyeon was working his way up in the J- Cosmetic Company, and now worked as a manager of an entire department.

Later that evening after dinner, the family went their separate ways. Taekwoon’s parents always offered Taekwoon’s old room to the visiting couple so they wouldn’t have to check into a hotel. Taekwoon couldn’t really say no, especially because it had been almost six months since he’d seen them last, and he knew they missed both him and Hakyeon. Hakyeon haphazardly dumped their bags by the foot of the bed. They’d be leaving the day after the wedding.

Two days later, the wedding went off without a hitch. Minyung looked absolutely breathtaking in her flowing white gown, and Hongbin was the perfect counterpart in a black tux and white bowtie. Those who didn’t know Taekwoon would have thought he didn’t care about his sister’s wedding by the expression on his face, but Taekwoon’s family and Hakyeon were able to tell that he was thoroughly enjoying seeing his sister get married. He radiated a subtle happiness that made Hakyeon smile so hard his cheeks hurt. Hakyeon was always happy when Taekwoon was happy, and loved seeing him enjoy life in his own reserved way.

“Time for the reception!” Heesun called, dragging Hakyeon with one hand and Taekwoon with the other. Before they made it to the car, Hakyeon carefully shook her off. “Taekwoon!” he called, snagging his husband’s hand and pulling him away from his sister.

“What are you guys doing?” Heesun asked, steps slowing.

Hakyeon smirked. “Go find Minyung without us,” he told her, “We’ll catch up in a minute.” Heesun looked between them, saw Hakyeon’s dangerous smirk, winked, and hurried off to find, harass, and embarrass Hongbin.

Hakyeon pulled Taekwoon out of the stream of people leaving the wedding hall and migrating toward the reception. Though the trees were already down to half their leaves, they made acceptable cover. He tugged a pliant Taekwoon behind a landscaped bunch of trees and bushes. Hidden from view, Hakyeon swung his arms up around Taekwoon’s neck. “Reminds you of our wedding a bit, doesn’t it?” he asked, smiling.

While public displays of affection would normally bother the rather reserved Taekwoon, he was swept along in the current of joy and peace that had overtaken his family. Instead of pushing Hakyeon away with a mock glare, he actually returned the hug, and rested his forehead on Hakyeon’s shoulder. “It does, a little,” he replied, the sound muffled in Hakyeon’s tuxedo jacket.

And although Hakyeon already knew, he asked, “Are you happy?” He rocked a little in Taekwoon’s arms. Taekwoon snorted quietly. “Of course.”

***

The dance floor was packed. It was midway through the reception and the guests had drunk enough to lower their inhibitions and get them dancing. The music suddenly switched from a fast-paced pop song to a slow and soulful ballad. Delighted, Hakyeon dragged Taekwoon away from the corner he had ensconced himself in, smacking his hands away from the tiny heart-shaped mints that littered the tables. Taekwoon didn’t put up too much of a protest, unable to resist Hakyeon’s infectious good mood.

The couple slipped onto the dance floor, making their way around various guests until they were near the middle. Hakyeon threw a careless wink at the bride and groom dancing in the center of the crowd, so close a piece of paper wouldn’t be able to slip between them. He wound his arms around Taekwoon’s neck and thumped his head onto Taekwoon’s collarbone, smiling secretly when Taekwoon’s arms pulled tight around his waist.

The crowd surged around them, figures swaying together underneath twinkling fairy lights. Taekwoon looked down at N: his red hair was ruffled from his overexcited hands running through them, there was a line of sweat beading at his hairline from the heat of the crowd and the lights overhead, his eyes were drooping closed in contentment and his slightly clammy palms were damp on the back of Taekwoon’s neck.

Taekwoon could remember very few times in his life he had been happier. He pressed a kiss to Hakyeon’s temple, smiling when his husband mumbled something unintelligible. It was at that moment that Hakyeon jerked back, face scrunching and a hand whipping away to clutch at his chest while the lights in the reception hall flickered.

“Hakyeon…?” Taekwoon asked concernedly, holding Hakyeon’s shoulders and glancing up at the lights.

Hakyeon shook his head, straightened up, and pressed his fingers to his chest, over his heart. “I don’t know,” he said, trailing off. “I felt a sharp pain for a second. I swear it felt like someone had touched me, but I feel completely fine now…” He looked around, even twisting in Taekwoon’s grip to look behind him, but Taekwoon was the only person within arm’s reach. The rest of the guests continued to dance, apparently completely unaware of the simultaneous blink of every light in the building.

Taekwoon caught sight of Heesun from the corner of his eye. She had wrestled a young man in a rumpled suit onto the dance floor and was twirling around him enthusiastically despite the slow tempo of the song.

“Hey, Heesun!” Hakyeon called out, thoughts clearly running in the same direction as Taekwoon’s. Heesun spun to a stop, catching herself on the young man’s shoulder. “Yes, you may cut in,” she drawled, releasing the suit-clad shoulder of her partner and stalking over to Hakyeon.

Hakyeon’s eyes widened as she turned him away from Taekwoon and clutched his hand, dragging the other to rest on her waist. “So, dear brother-in-law, how are you enjoying the reception?” she inquired, tugging Hakyeon around as a faster beat began to throb through the packed room. Taekwoon stood where he’d been left, hands awkwardly in the air where his husband had been a second before.

Hakyeon laughed, drawing Heesun into a proper spin. “The reception’s amazing. I even got Taekwoon to dance with me. But…” he hesitated, “did you see the lights a second ago?”

Heesun curled into his chest before stepping away again, falling back into the dance step. Taekwoon had retreated from the floor. “What do you mean? I see the lights. The chandelier is beautiful.” They quickly stepped around an older couple who was moving against the crowd.

Hakyeon frowned slightly. “I mean a second ago, they flickered. Like, all of the lights in the place.” He dipped her back a little and her necklace slid across the smooth top of her dress.

“I don’t know what you mean. Everything’s gone perfectly!” Heesun beamed, “My siblings set too high of a standard. I can see it now; my wedding’s going to be a disaster.”

People left the dance floor in waves as the song came to an end, echoes of the treble whispering away into the ceiling. Smiling a little, Hakyeon released Heesun. “Thanks for the dance,” he told her. “Go recapture that kid in the suit. He liked you.”

“Really?” Heesun asked, voice shooting up an octave while her hand flew to her mouth. She quickly glanced around, looking for her suitor. He had disappeared completely. “Kibum, here I come! Or Minho…or Seunghyun…or whatever your name is…” Heesun pushed through the crowd, muttering to herself.

Hakyeon went on the hunt for Taekwoon, who had reestablished himself at the table in the corner. The shorter man dropped into his chair, huffing a sigh and resting his cheek on his fist. Taekwoon leaned forward slightly, fingers absently playing with a crumpled napkin. “Heesun didn’t see the lights flicker,” Hakyeon said. Though Taekwoon didn’t frown, Hakyeon saw the skin around his eyes tighten. “It was kind of weird that it happened right when my chest hurt,” Hakyeon continued, fingers pinching at the shirt covering his heart.

After another second of contemplation, Taekwoon spoke. “I don’t know what it could be,” he said. Neither man was the superstitious type, nor did they believe in paranormal activity or ghosts. Hakyeon shrugged. “It was probably nothing.” Taekwoon returned the shrug with a slight one of his own.

They were pulled away from their subdued conversation by the ringing of a spoon against expensive crystal and the loud exclamation that someone was going to make a speech. Heesun materialized in front of their table, grabbing Hakyeon and Taekwoon and pulling them toward the bride and groom on the far side of the room. “Taekwoon!” Minyung called out, dragging him into a hug.

In the excited commotion, the fleeting chest pain and odd flickering of the lights were forgotten.


	3. Chapter 3

The morning was a crisp one, and Taekwoon and Hakyeon were en route to their usual morning hangout. Taekwoon had passed by the quaint coffee shop while taking a different route home from school about half a year ago. When he took Hakyeon there for the first time the man had absolutely loved it. Hakyeon immediately made stopping in the shop for coffee or hot chocolate a necessary part of their Sunday morning routine.

They had returned from Busan the day before and were relaxing on their last free day before work began anew. Minyung and Hongbin were disgustingly in love and had left for their honeymoon in high spirits. Heesun had pouted at Hakyeon, trying to convince them to stay longer, but they really couldn’t. Taekwoon quietly reminded her that Baekhyun, the man in the rumpled suit from the reception, had agreed to a date soon, so she wouldn’t even miss them. Their trip home had gone without incident, and while they were more than happy to see Taekwoon’s family, the couple was a little relieved to return to their routine.

This particular Sunday morning, Taekwoon followed Hakyeon down the stairs toward the shadowed front door. Ravi’s was actually below ground, the basement level of the building that had a scrapbooking store above. 

“Welcome! What can I get for you this morning?” Ken asked pleasantly as soon as he recognized the couple.

Hakyeon smiled in return. “Good morning, Ken! How are you? Can we both get medium hot chocolates, please?” Taekwoon had the exact change ready to go and handed the money to Ken. “Oh it’s the same old around here,” the barista replied, “The boss picks on me, works me like a slave…” Ken took the cash, rang up their drinks, and popped the money into the till.

“Just call for mutiny,” Hakyeon chuckled.

“It wouldn’t really work. There’s only one employee other than me,” Ken sighed. “Two medium hot chocolates, coming right up! Whipped cream?” Hakyeon nodded while Taekwoon quietly declined. He always asked just in case Taekwoon changed his mind. “It’ll just be a minute or two. Go ahead and sit down,” Ken said before disappearing into the back. The sounds of clinking dishware and the whirring of shining machines drifted into the café proper.

Taekwoon and Hakyeon turned to the back of the room toward three sets of high tables and chairs. They chose the table closest to the counter and slung their jackets over the backs of their seats. Settling in, they only had to wait a few minutes before Ken popped back up with their drinks.

He carefully skirted around the counter, eyes on the steaming mugs of hot chocolate in his hands, and made his way over to their table. They were the only customers in the café, so he didn’t mind bringing their drinks out. “If you need anything, just holler,” the barista cheerfully instructed, depositing the mugs and taking a step back. “Thanks,” Hakyeon said, smiling again.

Taekwoon took his mug gratefully, warming his hands on the sides. He glanced up at Hakyeon, who had his eyes closed and was smiling gently. He hadn’t taken a sip yet, unwilling to deal with the inevitable burn on his tongue, but he appeared content. “I love coming here, especially with you,” he said quietly, not wanting to break the blanket of tranquility that had fallen over the café.

“Me too.”

They sat in the quiet warmth of the café, basking in each other and their rich drinks in a world that seemed to run on its own time, separate from the chaotic and cold reality outside.

Suddenly, their tranquility was interrupted by another employee approaching the table. Hakyeon and Taekwoon looked up, a little surprised to see the café’s owner, Ravi. “Hi!” he greeted them, “It’s good to finally see you two again. I think I miss you every time you come in. How’s Ken doing?”

“He hasn’t dropped a plate yet,” Hakyeon replied, not even trying to conceal his chuckles. Taekwoon nodded a little, and surprisingly, spoke up. “The hot chocolate is always good.”

“Oh, a compliment from Taekwoon!” Ravi crowed, “We must really being doing well. Anyway, I’m glad to have you guys come in all the time. It’s good to have eyes on Ken when I’m not around.” Ravi smiled genuinely, looking happy and relaxed. Though he seemed a little young to own his own business, he was outgoing and smart enough to pull it off. Ravi was about six foot tall, a blonde with tight curls contained in a loose black beanie. Though he was technically at work, he wasn’t in any sort of uniform. He was simply wearing a long sleeve white tee with blue stripes, clean jeans, and scuffed black boots.

“Yeah, Ravi’s is kind of like home away from home,” Hakyeon offered, gesturing to the rest of the room. “It’s really unique, and a great place to relax.”

“Thanks,” Ravi returned, looking flattered. “If you need anything, Ken doesn’t work too hard, so feel free to bother him. In fact I almost insist so I can finally get my money’s worth out of him.” He glanced to the back, where they heard a faint offended noise. Hakyeon chuckled while Taekwoon remained blank faced, and Ravi smiled again before returning behind the counter.

Taekwoon and Hakyeon continued to sip on their hot chocolates, mostly silent, but occasionally murmuring an observation or comment. Their beverages were just getting to the point where they could drink without scalding their tongues. Hakyeon finished first, as he always did, and spent a minute or two making sure he’d licked all of the whipped cream off the rim of the mug. Satisfied, he set his mug to the side and rested his cheek on a closed fist, gazing amusedly at Taekwoon.

Taekwoon always had the most serious look of concentration on his face when he drank his cocoa, like it took all of his focus and then some to drink it just right. He always seemed offended when Hakyeon made a comment about it, but he continued to drink his hot chocolate very slow and thoughtfully, savoring the rich flavor.

Hakyeon grinned, unable to help it when faced with Taekwoon’s adorable serious face. He went to make a smart-ass comment that would surely get him glared at, arm sweeping out to gesture, and knocked his empty mug straight off the table. It smashed onto the old wood floor with a brilliant crash, startling Hakyeon and making him jump. He immediately scooted back, chair scraping across the floor. Taekwoon stood as well. Embarrassed and glad there were only a few people in the café, Hakyeon gently swept the ceramic debris into a pile with the side of his shoe. He leaned down and placed all of the smaller pieces into the base of the mug, which was still intact. Taekwoon hovered off to the side, unsure of what he should do.

“Ow!” Hakyeon yelped, pulling his finger away and sticking it in his mouth. The warm tang of coppery blood slid across his tongue and he swallowed. Glancing down, he saw a small, razor-sharp ceramic shard tipped in red.

Ravi hurried around the counter with a broom and dustpan. “Are you alright?” he asked Hakeyon, having heard the yelp of pain. Hakyeon nodded, inspecting his finger, which continued to bleed. Ravi turned back and shouted, “Ken, would you grab the first aid kit and bring it out, please?” They heard a vague noise shouted back and took it for assent.

Taekwoon stood next to Hakyeon, who had stepped back to let Ravi move closer. He offered a napkin to his husband to slow the bleeding because he didn’t approve of Hakyeon sticking it in his mouth. Hakyeon took the napkin and looked down, fiddling with it. Taekwoon absent mindedly rubbed this finger with his thumb; sympathy pain made his own fingers ache. Ken scurried around the counter with the plastic first aid kit. Taekwoon gently pulled the napkin away from Hakyeon’s hand as Ken popped open the kit and pulled out the various cleaning supplies and bandages.

“It doesn’t look like it’ll need stitches, but we’ll wrap it up tight. I wouldn’t recommend doing any hard work with that finger,” Ravi stated calmly while inspecting the clean cut across the pad of Hakyeon’s finger. Hakyeon chuckled despite himself.

“Before you hurt your hands again, let us finish cleaning up the mug,” Ken insisted as he grabbed the broom and dustpan and scooted closer to sweep up the mess.

After a rush of high-pitched tinkling, the barista moved away, carefully balancing the heavy ceramic pieces in the dustpan. Hakyeon looked up as if struck. “I have to pay you back for the mug!” he exclaimed. Ravi looked a little taken back and confused for a moment before laughing. “Don’t worry about it,” he assured them. “If that was my policy, Ken would be working for free!”

They heard a shocked and indignant, “Hey!” from the counter where Ken had retreated.

“As long as you’re sure…” Hakyeon trailed off guiltily, his uninjured hand resting on his pocket where his wallet resided.

Ravi patted Hakyeon’s shoulder, nodding at Taekwoon. “I’m very sure. We’ll finish cleaning up, so don’t worry about it. Accidents happen.”

Hakyeon sighed and Taekwoon rested a hand on the back of his neck, providing a measure of comfort. Hakyeon smiled a little. “I suppose we’ll go then,” he said, “Don’t want to make more of a mess than I already have.” Taekwoon couldn’t help but to smile at that. In all truth, Hakyeon was a little bit of a walking disaster. “Thanks for your kindness,” the quiet man addressed Ravi before nodding once and turning to go. “Yeah, thank you very much,” Hakyeon added. He gave a short little wave and turned to follow.

“Hopefully we’ll see you guys next Sunday!” Ravi called, smile clear in his voice.

Taekwoon pushed the heavy front door open and held it for Hakyeon, who followed close behind. A bright grin slipped onto Hakyeon’s face. It was adorable that Taekwoon wanted to take care of him because he got hurt. The pair trotted up the steps and headed down the sidewalk toward their house. Hakyeon was embarrassedly reliving the mug incident in his head when his foot caught a crack in the sidewalk and he pitched forward. He caught himself on the palms of his hands, barely avoiding smashing his nose into the cement.

Taekwoon watched him go down, not fast enough to catch him. His hands burned, as if not being able to help was physically painful.

Hakyeon sat on the cement, even more embarrassed and annoyed, and inspected his scraped hands. Above him, Taekwoon mirrored the action with his own hands. He rubbed his them on his jeans and knelt down next to Hakyeon. Tugging his husband’s hands closer, Taekwoon scrutinized the raw scrapes, looking for gravel. They seemed to be relatively clean. He could wait to wash them until they got home since it would only be a couple of minutes.

“This is clearly not my day,” Hakyeon complained. “I feel like I should sit in a really soft chair in an empty room and not move,” he added morosely.

Taekwoon stared at Hakyeon blankly, not disagreeing. After a minute he tugged on Hakyeon’s arm, pulling him from the sidewalk so he wouldn’t push himself up using his hands. Hakyeon tried to continue walking, but Taekwoon barred him with an arm. “Check for cracks,” he said, voice carrying the subtlest hint of mocking. Hakyeon huffed, but dutifully checked the sidewalk for dangerous cracks, bumps, unevenness, and debris. Once the way was clear, the pair continued toward home.

Back in the café, Ken was sweeping up the last of the tiny shards of broken mug that were sprinkled across the tile. He tapped the dustpan into the trash, making sure none of the pieces bounced back out. Ravi had disappeared not a minute ago claiming, “I need some fresh air.”

Ravi leaned against the rough brick of his building, arms crossed. The afternoon air was cool on his face and neck. He watched as Hakyeon and Taekwoon straightened themselves and continued down the sidewalk. A second later, he was gone.

***

It was close to closing time and Ken just wanted to go home. He really didn’t mind spending a quarter of his day in this lovely little cave nestled into the ground, but sometimes he just wanted to go home, cuddle in his blankies, and embrace glorious sleep.

He stopped sweeping for a moment to settle his hands on the end of the broom handle and rest his cheek on them, smushing his face. He could fall asleep right there, he was sure. Ken heard the rattle of a door opening, but decided to ignore it in favor of immediate sleep.

“Are you slacking off again?” Ravi called out, a smile in his voice. He stood by the front door, knuckles white around the not insubstantial weight of the chalkboard sign that announced his café.

Face still disfigured and left eye practically gone behind a flab of cheek, Ken just groaned.

“I know you want to go home, but you have to finish sweeping, you lazybones.” Ravi leveled a look at Ken, who couldn’t see it anyway.

The barista released an overly dramatic sigh and his thin body slumped. The broom handle did a surprisingly good job of supporting his dead weight. Ravi set the signboard down next to the front door with a clatter and plodded over to Ken’s sad figure.

Lips twitching into a smile, Ravi nudged the bottom of the broom out from under the center of Ken’s weight. He kept a keen eye on Ken, whose eyes were fluttering as he desperately pretended to be awake. The man jerked and almost fell over when the broom shot out from under him. He let out an undignified yelp as he caught himself and regained his balance.

The bang of the broom crashing to the floor was obnoxiously loud in the quiet space of the café and to Ken’s sleepy ears. Trying to hide his smile, Ravi tried his best to glare at Ken, who scratched the back of his head in embarrassment and laughed awkwardly.

Without warning Ravi straightened, shoulders tense and face serious, and looked past his employee. Eyebrows furrowed, Ken twisted around to see if Ravi had seen something terrible that he was going to be blamed for, but there was only the rough red brick of the wall. He turned back around and his slight frown deepened at the sight of Ravi’s almost vacant stare.

Ken slowly put his hand in front of Ravi’s face, waving slightly. “Are you okay?” he asked tentatively.

There was a few seconds of silence, but Ravi eventually responded, still staring at something only he could see with back and shoulders rigid.

“I need to get some fresh air,” Ravi said, sounding distracted and like he hadn’t even thought about the words spilling from his mouth. “Uh, I’ll be back in bit. Keep working, okay?” He spun around and made a bee line for the front door.

Ken stared at Ravi’s back as the door thumped closed behind him. “Again?” he asked the empty café. Despite how clumsy and silly Ken could be, he wasn’t a complete idiot. He knew something was up with Ravi. This wasn’t the first time Ravi had gotten that weird off-in-the-distance look for a moment then ‘went out to get some air.’ Ken’s limp hand still hovered in the air, formerly in front of Ravi’s face. It formed into a fist as he solidified his resolve.

“Fighting!” Ken whispered, and did a small fist pump while looking incredibly determined.

Ken slipped out of the café as carefully as he could, gliding up the set of concrete stairs that led to the coffee shop. He took care to make his steps quiet and smooth so he wouldn’t be heard by his target. His face was pinched in concentration, hyper aware of every limb and its placement to ensure silence and stealth. Ravi would never see him coming, and answers would be discovered tonight.

Ken slowly peeked above the top step, almost lying down so only a sliver of his head was visible from the sidewalk above.

He zeroed in on Ravi’s bright striped shirt in the darkness and watched as he hustled around the corner of the building. Ken could feel his pulse pounding in his throat. The air felt electrified, pregnant with potential, as if the night was watching over his shoulder, eager to see and consume whatever Ravi had in store for them. Grit pressed into Ken’s anxious hands.

He waited, trying to leave enough time so Ravi wouldn’t see him scuttle around the corner. After what felt like years where Ken counted every thumping beat of his heart, he gingerly padded up the stairs and glued himself to the outside wall of the building. He spread his arms in an attempt to become flatter and less visible in his position crouched in the shadows. As he slowly crept to the edge of the wall, the concealing shadows brightened and the edges fell into sharp relief. There was a bright source of light around the corner.

Odd. There are no new streetlights over there, Ken thought. What could possibly going on? He thought Ravi had disappeared to have a smoke and was too embarrassed by the bad habit to admit it to his employee. Or maybe he’d scheduled a secret rendezvous with some attractive older woman. Heck, Ken would probably believe that Ravi had gone to practice some secret dance moves in private. Approaching the origin of the curious light, Ken poked his head around the corner much the same way he’d peeked over the top of the stairs. His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. Ken’s mind was blown.

An orb of pure white light was hovering a scant few inches above Ravi’s open hand. It bobbed gently in an invisible wind, its glow almost affectionate. The café owner himself smiled gently at the white orb and slowly drew it closer. It followed Ravi’s movement, resting at a constant distance of about three inches above his flat palm as if repulsed like the opposite ends of a magnet.

Ken continued to stare in shock, eyes squinting at the brightness, as Ravi brought the light closer to his chest. As it drifted closer to his body, the light grew brighter until it resembled a miniature sun and Ken’s eyes started to water. The side of Ravi’s hand bumped into his chest and stopped, but the light continued on, slowly vanishing into Ravi’s body.

The light sank further and further into Ravi’s chest, close to his heart, encouraged along by the man until his palm was pressed firmly against his shirt. Ravi gasped softly and his chin tilted up. He began to glow, lit up from the inside. Ravi’s eyes were sightless, trained at the sky and glowing a hot, pure white as if the sun had dripped down and filled his human form like an empty glass.

It felt like some unknown tension finally snapped because the light within Ravi started to dim. Ken realized he should get as far away from the scene as possible before Ravi caught him. Swiftly pulling his head back from the corner of building, he stealthily made his way back into the café. He stooped over to pick up the broom that remained on the floor and continued sweeping. He put his back to the door as he worked in an attempt to contain the blown-away look that he knew was plastered across his face.

Ravi stalked into the café, heavy front door opening as easily as if it were made of paper. He didn’t say anything at first, but shot Ken an unimpressed, knowing look. Neither of them were stupid and that look had told Ken loud and clear that his presence had been noticed. As subtle as Ken tried to be, he had still been an entire head poking out from the corner. Instead of confronting the barista, however, Ravi decided to let it be.

“Did you take another mini nap while I was gone?” he asked instead, poking at Ken’s side. Ken jumped a bit more that he usually would, mind still buzzing and attempting to get over the unbelievable scene he’d stumbled upon. He tried not to look in Ravi’s eyes, afraid he’d find an inhuman glow or just as bad, anger and disappointment.

Grateful for the excuse provided, Ken stuttered something, he wasn’t even sure what. “Yeah. I’m just so tired,” he whined, letting his arms flop to his sides. His heart was still pounding and he was almost sure that Ravi would be able to hear it.

Ravi chuckled. His teeth were bright white. “Well, since you’re so tired, you big baby, I’ll let you go.”

Ken instantly perked up at the news and threw his arms in the air with a cheer. Removing of his apron with a flourish, he smiled as he walked to the back to throw it in a hamper and fetch his coat. Ken borderline skipped out of the café with a cheerful smile and bouncing hair, coat in hand to combat the lingering cold. Yanking the door open and throwing Ravi a jaunty wave, he jovially called out, “Bye!” and hastily beat it.

Ravi couldn’t resist calling out a smart comment to Ken’s retreating coattails: “Make good decisions! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

After the door softly thumped closed and the hush of the night settled on his shoulders, Ken’s mind instantly shot back to what he had seen. As it stood, he had no idea what the hell he’d seen. That light wasn’t natural; it wasn’t anything he’d ever seen in real life. Heck, the only things that came close were fantasy movies. The entire event raised questions that Ken didn’t want to risk asking. Ravi would have told Ken if he wanted him to know.

There was one question on his mind: what is Ravi, if he can do that? Is he even human?

Ravi seemed like a normal person. He consumed things, went to the bathroom. He had feelings and expressions like any other person Ken had ever met, except for the whole I-absorb-light-into-myself thing.

Ken, with all of these thoughts whirling in his head, hurried down the deserted streets. He pondered the entire situation and decided when he went back to work and Ravi acted like a normal human being, he wouldn’t confront him about it.

Overall, the night had been alright. Ken always enjoyed a bit of espionage.


	4. Chapter 4

Three weeks later, Taekwoon joined Hakyeon in the kitchen with a soft sigh. “You’re such a klutz lately. It’s unlike you.” The man pulled the first aid kit out from under the sink. He was contemplating moving it to the counter permanently; it seemed like it barely made it to the cupboard before they were pulling it out again to patch Hakyeon up. He had been a trouble magnet more than usual for the past month, and neither man could explain it. This time, Hakyeon had fumbled with the tea kettle and managed to splash boiling water on himself. The water burned a blotchy stripe on his side though his t-shirt. Taekwoon gently dried and covered the area with clean gauze so his shirt wouldn’t rub it when he moved.

“Maybe we should put you in a padded room,” Taekwoon said, repacking the first aid kit. He paused. “The ceiling would probably collapse on your head.” Hakyeon couldn’t even muster up a smart-ass reply. He was beginning to agree.

Taekwoon stood and replaced the kit before walking around the table and resting his hands on Hakyeon’s shoulders. “I’ve got to go to work. I’d like to say don’t move, but…”

“Yeah,” Hakyeon sighed, “The chair would probably break under me. I have to go to work anyway.”

Taekwoon tugged Hakyeon out of his chair, turned him around, and pulled him into a hug. He rested his head on Hakyeon’s shoulder, hunching slightly because of the height difference. “Be careful, please.”

Tucked in the curve of Taekwoon’s neck, Hakyeon’s eyes widened a little, slightly shocked. Taekwoon rarely said please. His stupid injuries must be taking a toll on his poor husband. He was somewhat of a worrier, but no one would ever guess because he was so good at hiding it. “I will,” Hakyeon replied just as softly. He tightened the hug, squishing Taekwoon into him before letting him go. “Go to work. I’ll be okay.” Taekwoon’s deadpan look seemed to suggest he was spouting lies, but Hakyeon couldn’t say anything else.

***

Hakyeon tripped getting into the car and banged his shin painfully on the open door. “Really?” he asked the empty garage, “Already?” He made a disgusted face before carefully entering the car and gently shutting the door. He took his time backing out of the driveway, pulling into the street, and heading toward work. Hakyeon would do everything in his admittedly small power to arrive at work unscathed.

Of course, he made it to work okay, but the workday was a wash. Hakyeon stalked to the break room to get coffee an hour into his shift; he hadn’t been sleeping well and was yawning so much he could barely read his computer screen. The room was empty save for the hum of the overhead lights and the soft gurgling of the coffee pot. He threaded his way through the gauntlet of bland tables and chairs to reach the back counter. The company generously kept paper cups in the cupboard for coffee.

Yawning again, Hakyeon pulled down a cup and grabbed the full pot of coffee, filling his cup about three quarters of the way. He blew on the steam while he replaced the pot. Yawning mightily, Hakyeon leaned against the counter and closed his eyes, letting his head loll on his neck and stretching the muscles. The coffee was still too hot to drink. Taekwoon was at school now, probably doing his best to teach basic reading to a bunch of unruly seven year olds. Despite his inscrutable appearance, Taekwoon actually loved kids and they loved him back. There was one kid in particular that Taekwoon always told him about, Sanghyuk, who had attached to him like a leech after their first day of class.

Smiling a little dopily at the thought of his gorgeous husband who was a dream with kids, Hakyeon let his eyes slide open again so he was staring at his shoes. He couldn’t wait to get home and find Taekwoon on the couch, face serious as he updated and double checked his curriculum for the next day. He took his job so seriously; it was completely endearing.

Hakyeon sipped on his cooling coffee, thinking that he should probably get back to work. But he was just so tired this morning, he hadn’t…Hakyeon paused. Was it a trick of his eyes? Had he nodded off for a second? He could have sworn he saw his shadow flicker. Frowning, he took another sip of his coffee, the drink hot and bitter on his tongue. He glanced up at the lights, but each long fluorescent bulb was brightly lit without a flicker in sight. The light switch was fully flipped up, not hovering in a sort of in-between limbo where the connection could be made or broken by a strong gust of air.

I really needed to wake up, Hakyeon decided, taking a large gulp of his coffee. He returned to inspecting his shoes: black dress shoes with a tear on the side of the left toes and scuffs on the heels. They would have to be replaced soon, but he really didn’t want to spend the money. He surreptitiously kept an eye on his shadow, slightly suspicious but still unwilling to admit that it was more than his overactive imagination. He stared at it until his eyes went blurry, but nothing changed. Hakyeon gulped down the dregs of his coffee and tossed the cup in the trash, turning toward the door.

He took a step forward but his foot didn't connect with ground. It was yanked out from under him. Hakyeon stumbled, arms reaching for something to catch himself on. He crashed into the counter, banging his hip painfully and accidentally throwing his elbow into the coffee machine. The pot slid out of its groove and crashed to the floor along with Hakyeon, who landed with one arm twisted beneath him and the other gripping the edge of the counter for dear life. His shadow flickered madly, but Hakyeon couldn’t see it.

A few of his coworkers hurried in, alarmed by the loud crash. They paused in the doorway, shocked, before scattering into the room. One went for the broom in the back corner while two others reached to carefully help Hakyeon off the floor.

“Oh my god, are you okay? Can you sit up or move at all?” a young man asked worriedly. An older woman stepped in front of him, and spoke calmly. “Here, let me help you up.” Hakyeon pulled himself up from the floor, arm shaking, and the woman guided him away from the shattered remains of the coffee pot. Hakyeon cradled his injured arm with his uninjured hand as sharp pain shot through his wrist. Though his right wrist didn’t hurt that badly, he could’ve cried. It was just one thing, one injury after another. Would he ever catch a break?

Hearing the commotion from down the hall, Hakyeon’s boss made his way from his office and toward the crowd surrounding the disaster in the break room. The crowd cleared and Mr. Lee, an incredibly kind and intelligent man with a coif of slowly greying hair, stood in front of Hakyeon, who was resting in a comfortable chair.

“Are you okay?” Mr. Lee asked, resting a gentle hand on Hakyeon’s shoulder. Hakyeon tried to flex his wrist to see if he could work through the pain, but a sharp zing prevented any further movement. He frowned unattractively while his coworker scolded him for trying to move it.

“I can’t use my right hand, it hurts too much,” Hakyeon uttered morosely, face pinched with pain.

Mr. Lee frowned sympathetically and crossed his arms. The other employees in the room fell silent. Glass tinkled as it was swept into the plastic dustpan. “N, you’re one of the best workers we have, and I’ve seen all of the injuries you’ve been coming in with lately. You seem to be quite the trouble magnet these days. You’ll be unable to work with an injured wrist, especially since it’s your dominant hand. I think you need a break.” The man nodded decisively, as if confirming the statement with himself.

Hakyeon looked alarmed, eyes wide and mouth dropping open. “What? I can’t afford to take a break!” he instantly responded.

As soon as his boss saw that Hakyeon was going to argue, he forcefully cut him off. “It’ll be a week of paid vacation, maybe two, depending on how well you’re doing at the end of the first week. I know you have enough days saved up anyway. If you’re really concerned about not being productive, feel free to do some work at home as long as you don’t hurt yourself more.” Hakyeon’s rebellious look slowly faded as he listened. “Now,” Mr. Lee said, clapping his hands together, “We better take you to the hospital, just to make sure that you didn’t break anything other than the coffee pot.” The corners of his eyes crinkled in a small, kindly smile.

Stunned into silence by his boss’s explanation and generosity, Hakyeon allowed himself to be tugged up from his chair, around the gritty pool of coffee on the linoleum, and out the door.

***

At the hospital Hakyeon was faced with an intimidating stack of paperwork that he had to fill out before the doctor could see him. He glanced down at his wrist, then up at the paperwork, then to his wrist, the paperwork. Seeing his horrified expression, his coworker was kind enough to grab a pen, drop into the chair next to him, and help him fill out his information. Hakyeon groaned miserably, mind picturing with disturbing clarity the inconvenience of having his dominant hand out of commission. His coworker glanced up at him a bit worriedly, but returned to the paperwork when Hakyeon helplessly waved him off. He worked with such good people.

After the paperwork had been turned in, Hakyeon turned to his colleague. “Thanks so much for helping me. You are a godsend.”

“No problem,” the woman replied. “Do you need me to stay with you? I’m sure Mr. Lee would understand.”

Hakyeon smiled gratefully, but shook his head. “You can head back to work and tell everyone what happened. I’m sure they’re all dying to know the details. I’ll call my husband and have him come get me.”

His colleague smiled and gave Hakyeon’s shoulder a brief squeeze. “I hope you feel better. And try not to hurt yourself anymore!” A morbid chuckle escaped from Hakyeon’s throat before he could stop it. “Believe me,” he sighed, “I’m trying.” With that, his coworker turned around and walked away, looking back slightly to make sure that Hakyeon hadn’t changed his mind. Throwing Hakyeon a little wave, she stepped through the automatic doors into the bright sun and was gone.

Hakyeon huffed disconsolately, feeling immensely alone. His arm still hurt, and he knew that Taekwoon wouldn’t be out of school for a while, but asking his coworker to stay made him feel guilty. Hakyeon was pondering how he was going to get home eventually when a nurse bustled through a swinging door and called, “Hakyeon? Jung Hakyeon?”

Perking up in his chair, Hakyeon called, “That’s me!” and raised his good hand so the man could find him, not that the ER waiting room was packed. The nurse smiled in Hakyeon’s direction, clutching a clipboard. “The doctor is ready for you, so come on back, please.” Hakyeon got to his feet and headed to the nurse. “Hello, my name is Donghae,” the nurse kindly informed him, stepping through a set of doors into the heart of the hospital.

Hakyeon followed him through the swinging doors, making sure not to jostle his arm. Seeing that he was obviously favoring one arm, Nurse Donghae held the door open so it wouldn’t whack Hakyeon on his way through. Muttering a small thank you, Hakyeon followed him through the maze of identical hospital hallways.

The nurse efficiently settled Hakyeon in his room. With a calm, practiced voice, he said, “The doctor is on her way. It’ll take a few minutes at the most,” and then promptly disappeared.

Hakyeon’s thoughts drifted to Taekwoon, who had been so worried about him lately. He felt bad that his husband had no idea that anything had gone wrong or that Hakyeon was in the hospital. It’s not like his injury was life-threatening, but Taekwoon was going to be upset that he didn’t know right away. Well, Hakyeon thought, If it was the other way around, I would be pretty mad too. His head thunked back onto the wall. I should call him now, before this hole gets dug any deeper. Puffing his cheeks up, Hakyeon resigned himself to calling and upsetting Taekwoon with another disaster.

He was interrupted, however, when the doctor knocked politely on the door and entered. With a professional smile, the short woman introduced herself. “Hello, I’m Dr. Kim. How are you doing, Mr. Jung?” Hakyeon thought that was an odd question considering their location, but answered nonetheless.

“Well, I’ve had better days,” he lamented, using his left hand to gesture at his right. If the good doctor noticed his growing collection of scrapes and bruises, she didn’t say anything. She scooted closer to Hakyeon’s chair and gently took hold of his arm. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Hakyeon embarrassedly explained the tripping and coffee pot incident. Dr. Kim nodded sympathetically making the black bun on the back of her head dip hypnotically. Hakyeon watched it move up and down as he told his story, speech slowing as he got distracted.

“Hmm,” Dr. Kim hummed, “From the way you’re carrying your arm, I’d say your wrist probably isn’t broken. Is it alright if I feel in a few places and you tell me how much it hurts?” Hakyeon acquiesced and Dr. Kim shifted her hands to his slightly swollen wrist. She applied gentle pressure in multiple places, asking if certain things hurt, and if so, how badly on a scale of one to ten.

“We’ll send you for x-rays to be sure, but it looks like it’s just a sprain. If the x-rays agree, we’ll give you a splint that you should wear for the next week. Avoid doing almost anything with that hand until it stops hurting and you can move it normally.” Dr. Kim released his arm. Hakyeon tucked it back into his lap, careful not to flex it. “You can ice it today to reduce the swelling,” she continued, “Other than that, you just have to wait for it to heal on its own.” The doctor smiled, apparently happy that Hakyeon’s injury was relatively minor. Hakyeon returned the expression, glad that his accident wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. “We’ll get you right through x-ray, find a brace that fits, and then you’ll be free to go.”

Hakyeon thanked her profusely. Dr. Kim accepted his gratitude with practiced grace. “The nurse who brought you in, Donghae, will take you for x-rays, get you a brace, and help you check out.” She paused at the doorway. “Watch where you step, alright? I don’t want to see you back here anytime soon,” she added warmly.

Shortly after the doctor left, Donghae made his return. He led Hakyeon through the labyrinthine hallways to the x-ray department and back to the room. The young nurse constantly sang under his breath, humming when he didn’t know the words and breaking into enthusiastic song when something reminded him of lyrics he knew. Several other nurses jumped in as they walked by or bobbed their heads at their work stations when Donghae passed. Hakyeon could barely hold back his chuckles. It cheered him up immensely.

Donghae explained the ins and outs of the wrist brace with ease, showing Hakyeon how to strap it on correctly and explaining when he should stop wearing it. His wrist throbbed after the brace was in place. Hakyeon could feel his pulse hammering against the stiff leather though his heartbeat was calm and steady.

After the final paperwork was filled out, Hakyeon returned to the lobby, still not sure how he was going to get home. Slumping into the chair he’d inhabited earlier, he wiggled his cell phone from his pocket and stared at his contacts. Taekwoon’s unsmiling face stared back. Hakyeon had managed to get the drop on Taekwoon and get his picture when the man had least been expecting it. The glare Taekwoon had thrown at him when he realized what happened was about ten times stronger than the stare in the picture, but his coworkers always said that Taekwoon looked angry. They really had no idea.

Taekwoon’s lunch break would be starting soon. Though he was so stoic and could even appear uncaring, Hakyeon knew how much he enjoyed working with kids. His husband really was the best. And now Hakyeon was going to ruin his day. His foot tapped agitatedly against the thin carpeting. Hakyeon unlocked the phone screen again, smirked at the picture of Taekwoon’s blank stare, and pressed the call button. Taekwoon wouldn’t have his ringer on during class, but he often turned it back on during lunch just in case Hakyeon wanted to pester him.

Pressing the ringing phone against his ear, Hakyeon bit his lip and hoped that Taekwoon would pick up. A mother and her small daughter hurried into the ER waiting room, the child sobbing loudly and clinging to her mom’s arm. The phone rang again, the tone warbling slightly. The mother began speaking rapid-fire to a harassed-looking nurse who was tucked behind a desk. Perhaps Taekwoon had his phone on silent after all. Just when Hakyeon was about to hang up and call again, the ringing abruptly cut off. The line was silent for a moment, followed by a very soft, “Hakyeon?”

“Hi Taekwoon. How’s your day going?” Hakyeon asked casually, trying to play it off like he was calling for no particular reason. He was met with silence. It didn’t work. He could never hide things from Taekwoon; the man could figure him out in two seconds flat. It was actually a little frustrating when he needed to hide something and had a legitimate reason for doing so. Smiling, Hakyeon continued, “I’ll take that as good, then.” He paused. “My day has actually been quite eventful.”

Taekwoon cut in, voice urgent but still soft. “Are you hurt?” The man knew him too well and considering Hakyeon’s track record from the last few months, Taekwoon rightly figured that Hakyeon had gotten into some ridiculous accident.

Hakyeon closed his eyes. The bright fluorescent lights in the room bled through his eyelids, not allowing him to plunge into comforting darkness. “Yeah. I sprained my wrist and I’m at the hospital. Is it possible for you to come get me? A coworker drove me over and I don’t want to risk driving with one of my hands out of commission, but I don’t want to leave the car here or I’d just take a taxi.”

“I’ll take a taxi and come and get you,” Taekwoon offered immediately, only sounding vaguely upset. Hakyeon knew it had the potential to grow to explosive levels if not dismantled as early as possible.

“Sorry for being such a pain,” Hakyeon said sweetly, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” was Taekwoon’s instant reply.


	5. Chapter 5

Taekwoon was already on his feet, gathering his coat and shoving his lunch back into the teacher’s lounge refrigerator. He informed the other teachers where he was off to, promising to be back in time for class. There was no way Hakyeon was driving himself anywhere. Taekwoon’s mind conjured competing scenarios of what could happen if Hakyeon got behind the wheel and each made him cringe in a barely contained horror. Grabbing his right wrist, Taekwoon used the throbbing pressure to ground himself. He had to get to Hakyeon and make sure he was okay.

Slipping into the hallway, Taekwoon heard the chatter and squeals of excited children as they mingled with their friends on the way to the playground. There was an ecstatic cry of “Mr. Jung!” and the pounding of rubber-soled sneakers on linoleum.

Taekwoon habitually braced his legs for impact just as a small body ran smack into him, short arms holding tight like iron bands.

“Mr. Jung, why are you leaving?” Sanghyuk asked loudly, eyes wide with curiosity and dismay. Taekwoon tried to peel himself from the small child, shaking his legs a little. Sanghyuk kindly released him and took two small steps back. The rest of his friends had moved on, not wanting to spend more time with a teacher than necessary.

Taekwoon knelt down so he was face-to-face with the excitable boy. “My husband has hurt himself and I have to go get him from the hospital,” Taekwoon explained evenly. Sanghyuk’s expression dropped at the mention of someone being hurt, especially someone as amazing as Mr. Jung’s husband. “Well, you have to go kiss it to make it better!” the boy blurted out as if the action was clearly obvious and urgently necessary. “Hurry, hurry!” he urged.

“I am,” Taekwoon replied and stood up, turning toward the door. Instead of clinging onto Taekwoon’s legs, Sanghyuk pushed the back of his knees toward the front door as if his small effort was going to make Taekwoon magically appear at Hakyeon’s side. If Taekwoon was more expressive he might have laughed at the actions of this elementary school boy, but he was not, so he patted Sanghyuk on the head, almost jogged to the front of the school, and called a taxi so he could go and fetch his wayward partner.

After a brief car ride wherein numerous wild scenarios of what Hakyeon could have done to hurt himself spun through his mind with an alarming speed and clarity, Taekwoon arrived at the tall, arching porte-cochere that shielded the entrance to the emergency room. Taekwoon paid the taxi driver in exact change. He stalked across the ambulance drive-up area, through glass doors, and into the lobby. His eyes swept over the room, looking for the bright red head of his husband and spotted Hakyeon almost immediately: he was folded into an uncomfortable looking chair, facing away from the front doors.

Taekwoon padded toward him, taking his time to examine him from behind. Hakyeon’s hair was slightly disheveled and he was curled toward the right. Purposefully sneaking now, Taekwoon crept up behind Hakyeon and looked down over his shoulder. A tan brace was contrasted starkly against Hakyeon’s black button-up shirt. He looked slightly silly with one sleeve rolled up to his elbow and the other cuff tickling the palm of his left hand. Taekwoon swallowed, his throat suddenly dry and slightly painful. Hakyeon’s increasing tendency to hurt himself was starting to hurt Taekwoon too. It almost felt as if Hakyeon’s aches and pains were his own.

Taekwoon puffed his cheeks up and held it for a moment before letting the air rush out in a whoosh. Hakyeon whipped around. “Taekwoon!” he exclaimed, “You could’ve-”

Hakyeon cut himself off as Taekwoon grabbed his good hand. His palm was slightly clammy and his grip was unrelenting. Hakyeon could see the tips of his fingers going white, the blood flow cut off by Taekwoon’s quiet desperation. Taekwoon was still staring at the beige brace as he began to tug Hakyeon out of his chair and toward the door.

“Taekwoon, you better look where you’re going. You wouldn’t want to end up like me,” Hakyeon joked a little desperately, trying to get the grim expression off his husband’s face.

Taekwoon shot him a flat glare that said his jokes were not appreciated.

The doors slid open in front of them, barely missing Taekwoon’s nose. Hakyeon threw a smile and an awkward wave behind him, a last ditch effort to convince the rest of the waiting room that he wasn’t being kidnapped. The pair marched toward their car, the pace a tad too quick. “Hey,” Hakyeon tried, “My boss forced me to have a least a week of paid vacation time. He said that he may extend it, depending on how I’m doing at the end of the first week.”

Taekwoon didn’t stop moving, but Hakyeon heard a short, “Good” from the general vicinity of his face. Hakyeon couldn’t work properly anyway because he did too much computer and paperwork to be of use with only one hand. The one-sided conversation finally died. They walked silently, Taekwoon slowing down slightly as they reached a section of rough, uneven concrete and scattered gravel.

Hakyeon’s shadow wavered as he tripped over himself while completely avoiding the broken concrete. Heart hammering, Hakyeon automatically threw his arms forward, ripping his hand from Taekwoon’s strong grip. Unlike the earlier tumble in front of the café, Taekwoon was close and fast enough to react. He swung an arm into Hakyeon’s waist and clamped a hand around his hip, immediately arresting his fall and jerking him upright. Hakyeon almost groaned at the added ache and his shadow flickered angrily at the edges and twisted out of shape as if agitated.

Hakyeon dangled in Taekwoon’s iron hold, upset.

“Why is it like this all of sudden!” he practically wailed, “No matter what I do, I get hurt. It doesn’t matter if it’s just walking or making dinner. I’m always getting hurt!” Air rushed from his lungs, catching in his throat and vaguely resembling a sob. “I’m tired of being tired, and hurt, and extra careful every time I move a muscle!” Hakyeon was frowning, expression crushed, as Taekwoon arranged him on his feet.

Taekwoon slowly leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Hakyeon’s frowning mouth.

“Let’s you get you home.”

Sufficiently stunning Hakyeon into silence, Taekwoon tugged him to the car. He quickly slid into the driver’s side after making sure Hakyeon got into the car without tripping, slipping, falling, or crushing any parts of his body.

The drive home was quiet; the only sound the hum of the tires on the road and the wind against the windows. Hakyeon breathed slowly. The tension coiled in his shoulders and lower back was starting to unwind. Taekwoon’s warm palm rested on his knee, finger curling naturally over the jut of bone.

Taekwoon wanted to hold on tight, to pull Hakyeon over the center console and shove that red head down into his chest. He wanted Hakyeon to have no choice but to breathe Taekwoon in, for his face to lose that sad cast and his shoulders to slump in comforted relief. Home. They needed to get home and they could figure this out. Hakyeon could lie in bed, not move, and look into Taekwoon’s face, see how much he cared. Maybe he could will the stupid man better. It was worth a shot.

Taekwoon carefully pulled into the driveway and through to the garage. He glared Hakyeon into submission when he tried to exit the car. Hakyeon rolled his eyes but allowed Taekwoon to come around and get the door for him. “I have a sprained wrist, not a full body cast,” he complained.

“And I’m not saying anything else…” he trailed off when Taekwoon looked disappointed in him.

Hakyeon did deign to accept Taekwoon’s hand to help him out of the car. He heaved himself up, paused, and fell back into the seat. Hakyeon frowned. Taekwoon tried to haul him up again, but Hakyeon barely moved. The interior of the car was pitch black, sticky and tar-like. Hakyeon’s face fell into shadow as he rocked even further into the passenger seat.

“Hakyeon?” Taekwoon asked, tone lilting up in confusion.

“I-” Hakyeon grunted, slipping his hand from Taekwoon’s and bracing it against the car frame. He pulled with all his strength and Taekwoon aided him with a hand on his shoulder. The darkness intensified, drawing everything into itself as Hakyeon fell back. Without moving he seemed to recede into the car’s interior, the outline of his shoulders and head wavering as if unsure of their proper place. The light in the garage flickered and dimmed, casting the room into an unsettling twilight before going off completely.

Hakyeon’s eyes grew wide, the pools of his pupils ballooning beyond his irises and bleeding into the whites of his eyes. His nostrils flared as he tried to draw in breath, but his lungs felt paralyzed. The shadows of his face grew deeper. The dark patches glancing under his eyebrows, curling beneath his nose, and striping across his cheeks were deep, unhealable cuts, complete absences of flesh, voids, windows into an undefined and malevolent space. Darkness spread like spindly, grasping fingers while Taekwoon’s ears roared and his hands stung.

Shadows oozed from Hakyeon’s eyes, streaking across his cheeks and running into the hair at his temples. It dripped from his ears like impossibly dark blood. Taekwoon could see almost nothing. It felt as if piercing, needle-like fingers had driven into his eyes and snatched the light from them. Tears leaked from the corner of Taekwoon’s eyes, a natural mirror of the horrifyingly unnatural effect experienced by his husband.

Hakyeon opened his mouth as if to call out, his face barely visible, but any sound was cut off by inky strands crawling up his throat and coating the inside of his mouth. Hakyeon and Taekwoon’s right hands flew to their chests at the same time, clumsy fingers tearing at the fabric lying over their hearts. Their hearts beat in loud synchronicity, throbbing painfully, almost bruising themselves against the walls of their chest cavities.

The light flicked on.

Taekwoon was kneeling next to the light switch, bent in half like a jackknife. His shoulders were heaving as he panted, coughing a few times into a clenched fist. Sweat soaked into the black fringe on Taekwoon’s forehead. His head snapped up to focus on Hakyeon, who was in a similar state on the cold concrete, shoulder pressed against the sharp corner of the car’s doorframe. The overhead light burned bright white, buzzing with life and seeping into the corners of the room.

Practical minded as always, Taekwoon fumbled his cell phone out of his pants pocket. With shaking fingers, he unlocked the phone and dialed a well-rehearsed number. “Yes, this is Jung Taekwoon.” He stared directly at Hakyeon. Their breaths fell in sync. “I’m having a family emergency.”

The cell phone casing creaked in his grip.

“I’m not going to be able to make it back to school.”

***

Hakyeon was curled up on a couch cushion, hands buried in the corners of a quilt and securing the soft fabric across his back. His shoulder was tucked under Taekwoon's arm and the man was resting his chin on Hakyeon’s bowed head. Though Hakyeon’s hands were hidden in the blanket, Taekwoon could still feel them shaking against his side, the minute trembling of a brittle leaf only partially shielded from a gale.

The entire house glowed with light. After the terrified and exhausted pair had stumbled into the house, the door to the garage rebounding sharply off the wall, Taekwoon had dumped Hakyeon onto the couch and tripped through the house, slapping on every light switch and grabbing blankets from the bedroom. When he returned, Taekwoon pulled up the blinds in the living room to cast Hakyeon in a warm, golden glow. His heart was still pounding though adrenaline was no longer leeching into his bloodstream.

Taekwoon dropped into the couch, suddenly exhausted. Hakyeon curled around him, body warm and soft, reassuring against Taekwoon’s chest. He craned his neck and caught Hakyeon’s eyes. They were a lovely shade of brown, thready irises trapping the wells of black pupil like an intricate cage of colored spider silk. Taekwoon pulled his husband closer, limbs, neck, and shoulders aching, heart physically hurting and mind numbly blank.

“What…?” Hakyeon breathed helplessly, finally and softly interrupting the thick silence. Taekwoon was in a similar head space. It was if some vital cog in the long chain of machinery that led to the creation of thought was missing, torn out. Every time Taekwoon’s eyes closed, the darkness behind his lids morphed into the slick slide of the spreading void overtaking Hakyeon’s eyes. His eyes snapped open again, smarting slightly from the bright light.

“I saw,” Hakyeon started again, voice forcing itself through the quiet like a plow through frozen earth. “…this morning at work. Before I fell. My shadow flickered or moved, but the light in the room hadn’t changed.” The insecure tone fell away, leaving bare conviction behind. “I thought it was my imagination or a trick of the light, and it didn’t happen again, but…” Taekwoon’s fingertips dug into Hakyeon’s side a little, pressure blunted by the fabric of his dress shirt.

Hakyeon swallowed. “Right after that, I tried to leave and I swear,” he breathed hard, “I swear to God my foot was pulled out from under me. I didn’t trip on my own feet, there was nothing in my way. My foot literally did not touch the floor and was pulled to the side.”

Suddenly that missing cog was jammed into place and the whole process restarted with a jerk. Only one powerful and consuming thought was produced, forged in Taekwoon’s brain and wielded by his tongue. “I believe you,” he said, and, “We’ll figure this out.” He crushed his lips to Hakyeon’s bright hair and squeezed.

“There’s something dark,” Hakyeon murmured, words muffled by his blanket and Taekwoon’s body. “Something dark that’s here, around us. Following me?” He rearranged his legs, trying to avoid painful pins and needles. “In me?” His tone shook. “But I don’t believe in ghosts,” he said, sounding incredibly small, but with a hopeful note that suggested the words had the power to make the dark specter fade away.

Taekwoon shook his head mutely, not denying Hakyeon, but out of a lack of any sort of meaningful gesture.

They were trapped, precariously buoyed by a smattering of artificial lights in an endless sea of dark things they could not comprehend.


	6. Chapter 6

Taekwoon had finally managed to convince an edgy Hakyeon to go to bed. Hakyeon showed signs of exhaustion and Taekwoon wasn’t going to stand there are watch the man try to tough it out. As much as Hakyeon wanted to stay awake and elude the encroaching shadows, his eyes were slowly drooping, jerking up and down like spasmodic shutters. In his position around Taekwoon on the couch, Hakyeon’s head started to tilt forward in sleep and quickly jerk back up, startling him awake over and over again. Taekwoon was fed up and impatiently herded him toward the bedroom.

Hakyeon was securely tucked under the covers while Taekwoon perched on the edge of the mattress. The redhead’s eyes were wide and slightly scared. “Will you leave the light on, please?” he mumbled. A brief silence hung in the air, tentative and fragile. Volume dipping low enough to be near the limits of human hearing, Hakyeon whispered, “I don’t want to disappear in the dark.”

If the situation had been different, Taekwoon would’ve leveled another one of his infamous flat glares at his husband, subtly telling him that he was being ridiculous. In normal circumstances, Hakyeon was the brave, adventurous one who jumped fearlessly and asked questions later.

This was anything but normal.

Taekwoon carried an uncompressible whirl of anxious pressure in his chest. It felt like something in him was rising continuously but going nowhere, rising and rising, up through his neck, into his cheeks and exerting a subtle pressure behind his eyes. Something in him was pushing up and outwards, like sheets of rippling heat snaking from overheated asphalt. It made him feel antsy and unsettled. Leaving the light on didn’t stop the pressure, but it made his head stop spinning.

With every light in the house burning, Taekwoon slipped out of his pants and button-up shirt. He folded the pants and returned them to the dresser, but threw the shirt into the hamper. Ignoring his pajamas, Taekwoon tugged the corner of the blanket up and slid beside Hakyeon, clad in only his boxers. He pulled a wriggling Hakyeon into his side and reveled in the warm knock of their shins and the soft skin of Hakyeon’s arm curling awkwardly around his neck to gently stroke the side of his face.

Hakyeon leaned in further, touching their noses. “Boop.” The lights hummed.

“When I close my eyes,” Hakyeon said. “It’s dark.”

Taekwoon slid his fingers across his partner’s cheek and cupped the back of his head. He gently drew his husband’s face closer and pressed a solid kiss to his lips. He trapped Hakyeon’s face under the curve of his own jaw, enclosing the man in the darkness of his body. “Just stay close to me.”

The next thing they were aware of was the hybrid screech and buzz of their alarm clock filling their bedroom with obnoxious noise. Instead of kicking Hakyeon to get him to turn the alarm clock off, Taekwoon pushed himself up on his elbows, eyes rapidly blinking in an attempt to wake up. He reached over, upper half balanced on one elbow, and tried to reach the annoying alarm. He couldn't reach. The wail of the clock was grating on his last nerve. Unreasonably annoyed, he shifted to the right, flopped on top of Hakyeon, and stretched, finally smacking the button.

“Urgh,” Hakyeon groaned, "Are you made of lead?”

Taekwoon looked over from his position on top his husband, seeing Hakyeon rub his eyes with his good hand. His hair was unruly and sticking up ridiculously.

“You can stay in bed.” Taekwoon offered.

Hakyeon shook his head tiredly, “No, I would feel like I’ve wasted the day.” 

Taekwoon nodded and pushed himself up and away from Hakyeon, who continued to lay there in a dramatic pile.

Once Taekwoon exited the bed, Hakyeon stretched spread eagle and tangled himself further into the sheets. Taekwoon was rummaging through the closet for a shirt when he heard a muffled cough from the bed. Turning slowly with a black t-shirt dangling from a clenched fist, he glared at his significant other. "No."

Hakyeon's innocent eyes peeked over the end of the comforter. The whole pile of blankets shifted when he shrugged.

"No." Taekwoon repeated, stalking toward the bed, as if he could remove Hakyeon’s sickness through sheer disbelief.

Hakyeon looked a little scared. He clutched the covers to his chin and slowly scooted backward until he was stopped by the headboard.

"No!" Taekwoon exclaimed, accusing finger pointing straight at Hakyeon’s face.

Hakyeon erupted into a mad fit of coughing, eyes scrunched and blankets muffling the awful scratching sound being forced from his throat. Once he had regained control of himself, the red haired man flopped over in defeat. "Why is my life so terrible?" he moaned. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Taekwoon sighed and sat beside Hakyeon’s head and softly ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know," he replied. "And I don't know where to begin with yesterday." Taekwoon shook his head helplessly, sounding lost.

"Maybe we should consult a psychic," Hakyeon suggested, only half joking. He pressed his forehead into Taekwoon's hip.

Taekwoon didn't reply, but actually half considered the idea. Was there anywhere else they could go and be taken seriously? Would a psychic even believe them? Most psychics were frauds. Well, first things first. "Do you want pancakes?"

Taekwoon called the school while whisking pancake batter and let them know he had a family emergency and would be using some of his sick and vacation days. They weren't happy, but Taekwoon almost never called in and he had time off saved up. He promised to drop off his lesson plans for the rest of the week the next morning

They spent the rest of the day occasionally discussing what had happened the night before, but not making any headway. Hakyeon’s cold only grew worse. His coughing was joined by a sore throat, a running nose, and a small but irritating headache. "How is it possible for someone to get sick so fast?" Taekwoon had muttered to himself while hunting down a box of tissues. Hakyeon only huffed miserably, tugged the laptop into his lap, and started researching demons, curses, and ways to remove them.

"Don't forget," Taekwoon said, "I have to take those files in to school tomorrow. Are you going to be okay by yourself?"

"I don't know," Hakyeon said. "Not like I have much of a choice." He squinted at the screen, trying to decipher a picture of what looked to be a goat's head on a man's body, and was that a snake?

Taekwoon was silent, but Hakyeon could practically hear the gears in his brain turning, trying to find a way to get out of having to leave in the morning. "Seriously Taekwoon, it'll be fine" he interjected. "You'll be gone for a half hour at most. I'll keep all the lights on and have my phone right next to me...does this look like a snake to you? Down there!?"

***

The next morning, Hakyeon dozed fitfully, his stuffy nose and raw throat making it difficult for him to fall asleep completely. He turned, grinding his face into the pillow as if he could push his pain into the cotton and out of his body. The covers had become twisted around his waist and tight over his shoulders, so he tried to kick them straight, but only succeeded in wrapping the sheets around his ankle. Frustrated by the sheets and an uncomfortably dripping nose, he hauled himself upward, squinting against the light in the room, and ripped the sheets away from his legs. Once they were straightened, he tossed the covers over his feet, pulled them away from his waist, and curled into the warmth trapped beneath them.

He slept like this for a little while longer before he woke again. Hakyeon reached a hand out of his warm blanket sanctuary, arm groping for the box of tissues that Taekwoon had so thoughtfully placed beside the bed before he left to drop his lessons off at the school. He vaguely remembered his partner kissing his forehead and saying goodbye not too long ago, but had no sense of the time.

All Hakyeon managed to do was knock the tissue box off the nightstand and watch miserably as it bounced across the floor. He could have cried. Here he was, feeling like death itself had taken up residence in his aching body, nose and throat a disgusting, snotty mess, head pounding like a drum, and he had to get out of bed to get the damn tissues.

There was a split second where he considered wiping his nose on a corner of the sheet, then pushing it to the far side of the bed so he wouldn’t touch it, but the thought of the look on Taekwoon’s face when he inevitably noticed quickly convinced him otherwise.

Huffing exasperatedly, which led to a hacking cough, Hakyeon flipped the sheets off his top half. He had no intention of actually walking to the tissues, no; the plan was to flop his top half out of bed and try to reach the box without completely falling out.

Hakyeon slid off the side of the bed, left hand planted on the floor to support his torso. His right hand stretched toward the box, the tips of his fingers just tickling the hard edge. Grunting, he reached just a bit further, carefully trying to scoot the box toward him. His wrist was aching, but the urge to stay in bed was stronger. The tissues slid away another quarter inch. Rolling his eyes, Hakyeon jabbed his hand out, managed to get one finger in a good position, and slid the box toward him. His left hand was shaking with effort, but triumphant, he levered back onto the bed.

Blowing his nose was a relief. He felt like he could breathe again, and though he knew he would feel stuffy in a minute or two, the effort had been worth it. Taekwoon would laugh if he could see how pathetic his partner was right now, Hakyeon knew he would. Hakyeon crumpled up his used tissue and peered to the side so he could throw it into the trash. Before he could make the inevitably terrible toss, Hakyeon saw something on the far wall that made him pause.

Frowning, Hakyeon threw his tissue, staring at a patch of shadow that spread much too far considering the light in the room. As he watched it, the shadow seemed to grow darker in intensity. Hakyeon felt his heartbeat speed up, a quick shot of adrenaline that made him jerk in place. Dark echoes of the events in the garage echoed through his mind.

He slowly leaned back, pushing himself away from that side of the bed and tugging the covers up closer to his chin. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light. Maybe his sickness-addled mind was deceiving him. Hakyeon blinked. The shadow remained. He blinked again, holding his eyes shut for a beat longer. Had the shadow expanded?

Hakyeons' heart was still racing in his chest and something in him was telling him to flee, to run into the sunlight and wait for Taekwoon in a place where no shadow could touch him. The shadow pulsed. It throbbed in a sick parody of a heartbeat, growing and starting to move completely independently of the light sources from the hallway and the windows.

The shadow wobbled and quivered, cycling through various shapes, all of them vaguely familiar and somewhat sickening, but none of them definable. The mass of shadow was a black that seemed endless and all consuming. It was not the shade of deepest black, but instead the absence of reality, a place where the world had failed. Hakyeon was stuck in the far side of the bed, paralyzed with a choking, cloying fear like a deer frozen in the headlights, waiting for an inevitable and painful death.

At least it was stuck in the wall, Hakyeon thought, at least it isn’t in here with me. He tried to move, to throw himself to the floor and crawl out of the room if he had to, but his limbs betrayed him. The phone with Taekwoon's number programmed into the speed dial sat like a brick in his pocket, and the corner dug into his hip.

Hakyeon could do nothing but lay still and watch in arresting dread as the mass started to pull itself into the room, as quiet as death. It was as if all sound had been stolen from the area, taken and destroyed so the only sound Hakyeon could hear was his heartbeat thundering in his ears and his breaths, shallow and shaky. He morbidly hoped he had fallen asleep. Perhaps his difficulty breathing from his cold had pushed his brain into forming a horrendously vivid nightmare.

Pulling the last of itself out of the wall, the dark writhing thing fell to the floor, landing silently and spreading slightly, like the first curls of smoke from a quickly growing fire. It grew taller, stretching, portions of it tearing soundlessly as it morphed into the rough shape of a human being. But a mere human shape couldn’t contain it. Black tendrils forced themselves from the shaky human outline, whipping back and forth as if searching for something to rip and tear.

The light shining in the room from the hall flickered and dimmed before going out completely. The sun, mostly blocked by the closed blinds, seemed the fade as well, throwing the bedroom into a sinister half-light. It brought Hakyeon’s world one shade closer to the reality of the creature that was slowly wrenching itself into existence, violating the sanctum of Taekwoon and Hakyeon’s bedroom.

The creature had finally taken the vague, shadowy shape of a young boy and it grinned, a gray jagged wound across what posed at its head. It glided toward the bed where Hakyeon was curled underneath their covers, shaking.

Hakyeon’s eyes widened because he was too terrified to close them. The thing approached, slow and inexorable though the ends of its legs disappeared into nothing. The surging, writhing darkness slowly leaned over, reaching out what resembled a hand and placing four too-thin fingers on Hakyeon’s cheek. Hakyeon felt like he was suffocating, or perhaps his heart had beat so fast it had burned out and come to a standstill. He couldn’t move a muscle. The fingers on his face were cold, their touch wispy, almost feathery. They gently caressed his cheek. The touch was possessive and terrible.

The creature’s other hand moved to grasp the covers that Taekwoon had tucked around his shoulders not three hours ago. Rather than violently ripping away the one protection Hakyeon had left, the thing slowly pulled the sheet away, uncovering his left hand. Hakyeon’s eyes prickled and burned, tearing up of their own volition. The tears broke free and slid down his cheeks, making them feel itchy and tight. The void hovering over him pulsed again.

It kept its movements slow and deliberate as it lightly touched Hakyeon’s uncovered hand, a stark contrast to the tendrils and spikes that erupted from its back, lashing back and forth angrily. It picked up his hand after an agonizing second, and the grasp was so cold that Hakyeon felt like his hand had been flash frozen and broken off at the wrist.

He watched in hyper-aware horror as a cut bloomed across his hand, searing with a freezing, aching pain. A dark, boneless finger moved inch by inch across the back of his hand, opening an oozing cut. Warm blood welled up and slipped down to his palm, scorching a trail across his hand like the concentrated flame of a blow torch.

The cut continued diagonally and blood slowly dribbled onto the pillowcase, pooling slightly before soaking into the tightly woven cotton. The creature stilled, lifting its hand away, the ripping tendrils calming as if finally content. The darkness hovered attentively, watching the blood flow from the red, angry-looking wound with no eyes as it simply reveled in the pain it had inflicted.

Black lips curved into a grin, proud of what it had done. With that smile pasted across the thing’s face, recognition flashed in the front of Hakyeon’s mind.

With a shudder, his mind heaved the name. A new kind of fear enveloped him as he thought one name, 'Taekwoon.’

Without warning, the creature burst out of the shape it had been holding, becoming an unfathomably dark mass of rippling antagonism. It sank to the floor, as flat and non-assuming as a shadow once again. As it slid up the wall and faded into the darkness, the light flickered back on in the hallway. The sun brightened as if appearing from heavy cloud cover, brightening the room again.

Hakyeon gasped, freed from his terror and paralysis. His heard thudded almost triple time and the sensation was almost physically painful. He quickly kicked out of his bed covers, feeling claustrophobic and trapped. Hakyeon stood, cradling his injured hand and stumbling into the kitchen, doing his best not to let any blood drip onto the floor. He was shaking almost uncontrollably. Crouching, he pulled the first aid kit out from under the sink and treated his wound with an efficiency that was beginning to scare him. Meanwhile, his mind was reeling with what the monster was doing with his husband’s face.

Hand throbbing with pain, Hakyeon cautiously tiptoed back to the bedroom. He stood in the doorway and took in the spots of blood that had soaked into the pillowcase. Though Hakyeon had no desire to enter the room, the blood was going to dry. Steeling himself and flipping on the light, the man gingerly approached the bed and stripped the pillow of its case, intent on getting the blood out before it stained.

Even though something as banal as keeping a stain from a cheap pillowcase shouldn’t have been his top priority, Hakyeon was on autopilot, mind churning while going through normal tasks to try retain some semblance of normality. He was scared of going back to bed, of lying down and closing his eyes, knowing that the inky, morphing thing would find him vulnerable.

He knew Taekwoon wasn’t the one doing this to him, Hakyeon knew for sure that this wasn’t his husband’s fault. It was something that only wore his face to unsettle him even more, to really hit him where it hurt.

‘That thing only wanted to mess with me mentally too,’ Hakyeon thought. ‘I won’t let this thing win.’ He pushed the thought out of his head, refusing to let it bother him.

His cellphone remained in his pocket, Taekwoon's number sitting in the speed dial slot, uncalled.


	7. Chapter 7

Taekwoon didn’t know what was going on when he felt a long, dragging pain on the back of his hand. He immediately stopped in the school hallway to clutch at what he assumed to be a wound. Looking down at his hand, he was surprised to see there was no physical injury to be found, but the pain of a cut still bit at the back of his hand, slow and deliberate. He gripped the back of his hand as the wound burned, trying to quash the burning pain.

Hakyeon, was Taekwoon’s first thought as his eyes grew wide with fear of what could have happened while he was gone. He knew that Hakyeon wouldn’t call him because he wouldn’t think clearly after whatever just happened. Starting to speed walk with a renewed vigor, Taekwoon near-jogged back to the car, swiftly ducked into it, and raced back home.

Taekwoon’s hand stung and felt hot to the touch. Looking down at his hand while stopped at a light, he saw the flesh was an irritated pink as if he had been scratching at it for a good while. When he rubbed the red splotchy line on his hand, he found it was tender. It seemed to ache all the way through is hand, pressing at the skin of his palm.

Quickly pulling into their driveway, Taekwoon popped the door open and raced up the front door, his face pinched with worry. His first priority was finding Hakyeon and seeing if he was okay. Before Taekwoon could get past the living room, he heard a sniffle originating from the kitchen. With a few wide strides, Taekwoon entered the plain threshold of the kitchen only to find Hakyeon slumping over the sink.

Taekwoon sighed in relief. Other than the rumpled-looking, bright red bedhead Hakyeon was sporting, Hakyeon looked like he was still in one piece. Another wet sounding sniffle and heavy breathing penetrated the silence, and Taekwoon went to stand next to his husband. Staring at the back of Hakyeon’s head as he approached, Taekwoon noticed that his shoulders were trembling.

Hakyeon’s face looked wrecked. His eyebrows were drawn together as tears continued to fall down his splotchy cheeks. His entire face seemed damp, as if he had been crying for a while despite his attempts to wipe it away. His nose was running, and there was a clear drop of what Taekwoon assumed to be snot on the tip of his nose. His eyes were unfocused and he didn’t seem aware of Taekwoon staring at him.

Taekwoon’s eyes trailed down from Hakyeon’s face, taking in the shaking shouldered covered by sleep-wrinkled and sweat-damp clothes.

Hakyeon’s vacant stare was directed toward the crème colored pillowcase gripped in his right hand. His left hand was swathed in gauze that was turning pink at an alarming rate, but it was gripping a small brush that he was using to scrub at pink spots on the pillowcase.

“Hakyeon,” Taekwoon said quietly. He tentatively reached out and grasped his left hand. As soon as Taekwoon touched Hakyeon’s skin, Hakyeon flinched and dropped everything into the sink with a loud clatter. His eyes widened and he pulled both his wrist constrained in the stiff beige brace and the bandaged hand close to his chest, as if they were going to be attacked.

“Hakyeon,” Taekwoon repeated, “What happened?”

Hakyeon slowly turned to face him, face worryingly vacant. “It, the black thing, it…” He seemed to choke on the air. The tense silence of the kitchen was permanently broken. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Hakyeon repeated over and over again. His mind seemed to be stuck on the words as if the mantra would lend some power or help him understand what he had just experienced.

Taekwoon gripped Hakyeon’s shoulders, wary of his injuries. “What happened?”

“Oh my god.” Hakyeon’s knees buckled. “Oh my god.” His back slid down the kitchen cabinets and the drawer handles dug into his flesh. “Oh my god.” His head rolled forward and was clumsily hidden in the cradle of his stinging hands. “I don’t know.” His voice was an uncontrolled, disconsolate, wet whine and he was crying in earnest now.

Taekwoon crouched next to him, hands gentle and consoling. “What did it do to you?” he asked urgently. The new injury smothered in gauze was no doubt from whatever had hurt and scared Hakyeon so badly, but he could be injured elsewhere and too deep in shock to remember or care.

Hakyeon coughed, his own tears and snot choking him. He pushed himself closer to Taekwoon. “It came,” he said, trying to control his breathing and make himself understandable. “It came from the wall, the shadows. Oh god, oh god, oh god.” Taekwoon slid his fingers into Hakyeon’s tangled hair, hoping that some of his warmth would transfer to his husband and offer him comfort and encouragement. There was no way that reliving the frightening and painful incident could be fun, but he had to know what had happened.

“The darkness that almost got me in the garage, oh god. It’s back, I know it’s the same one.”

“Something almost pulled you in again?” Taekwoon asked worriedly, clutching Hakyeon to him as if something was going to take him away right then.

Hakyeon managed to choke out a broken laugh. “Oh, no,” he said. “It didn’t want to take me anywhere.” He took a couple of steadying breaths and rested his cheek on Taekwoon’s shoulder. The man reached up to wipe the tears from his husband’s eyes when Hakyeon stopped him, tensing. “What happened to your hand?” he demanded, voice suddenly much stronger and more animated.

Taekwoon frowned, wondering why Hakyeon was worried about him when he’d clearly just had a very traumatic experience. Hakyeon grabbed Taekwoon’s scratched hand with his non-braced one and held it up for inspection. The back was red and slightly puffy with a raised, irritated welt. The mark was incredibly tender and painful to the touch.

“When did you get this?” Hakyeon asked. His voice was low and serious.

Taekwoon narrowed his eyes, worry shoved aside and replaced by curiosity and an unsettling knowing feeling. “About ten minutes ago, while I was walking down the hall at school. I don’t remember hitting anything.”

If possible, Hakyeon paled further. He dropped Taekwoon’s hand like it was too hot to touch and fumbled at his new bandage with his braced hand. 

“Woah,” Taekwoon almost yelped. He moved to still Hakyeon’s frantic motions, but the man impatiently shook him off. He gingerly peeled the large, bandage from his skin, grimacing at the sting. The cut was still bloody; not bleeding, but it glistened wetly in the kitchen lights. Eyes knowing, Taekwoon gently laid Hakyeon’s hand next to his on the table, briefly rubbing a thumb over the man’s wrist. With their hands next to each other, palms down, it was much easier to see that Hakyeon’s cut and Taekwoon’s welt were identical in length, width, and placement.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Hakyeon glanced at Taekwoon, surprised by the man’s unusual profanity. In lieu of saying anything, Taekwoon ejected himself from the chair and busied himself with the first aid kit. The antibiotic cream and another bandage were pulled out and set on the table while the rest was packed away and set in its place under the sink. Taekwoon silently helped Hakyeon put the new bandage on and Hakyeon let him. It was clear that Taekwoon was very upset and needed to feel useful. Just as Hakyeon had obsessively scrubbed at the drying blood stains on the pillowcase, Taekwoon has an urge to help his husband in any way he could.

It was weird being the calm one, Hakyeon decided, especially since he’d been near hysterical not twenty minutes prior. He really wanted to ask, “What are we supposed to do?” and “How is this possible?” but not only would Taekwoon not have any answers, the questions would only rub that fact in his face. The burning question, “Why did it look like you?” was buried deep, and it would be too painful to unearth it. 

Taekwoon sagged into the chair across from Hakyeon, hands empty and face drawn. Silence reigned for about ten minutes. Hakyeon’s wrist brace was resting gingerly against the table. He looked a sad state with a brace on one arm and a large bandage on his other hand, not to mention his constant sniffles and eyes red from crying. Taekwoon wasn’t much better. He felt faintly nauseous and his hair had gotten ruffled so it stuck out like a hedgehog’s prickles.

“What are we supposed to do?”

The question bloomed from the middle of the room as if it had appeared instead of been spoken. Neither man was sure who had said it, in fact, but the question remained.

Hakyeon replied, face blank. “Sit in a corner and cry, I think.” He paused for a few moments. “With a flashlight.”

That almost extracted a smile from his stoic husband, but it ended up being more of a failed twist of the lips. Taekwoon tapped his index finger on the table’s glossy surface, composure regained. “We’re not safe here.”

Hakyeon grimaced. “We’re not safe anywhere. Any place there’s a shadow or any sort of darkness, that thing is going to be able to get us. Heck, if we turn on the lights, it just turns them off!” He waved angrily with his braced wrist, that arm being the less painful one at the moment.

Taekwoon tilted his head to the side slight, thinking. Could the shadow creature turn off all light sources? Did that include electronic sources like house and street lights? Could it suck a battery dry? Would it be able to put out a fire? There was no way it could control sunlight, right? The thing had to have limits. Hakyeon watched him in silence, letting Taekwoon’s thoughts flow like a river over smooth stones.

It didn’t take long for him to come to some sort of conclusion that he deemed worth sharing. “This won’t solve the problem, but we should stock up on different types of lights.”

Hakyeon nodded slowly, thinking it over. He reached out with his bandaged hand and tickled Taekwoon’s fingers. Taekwoon tickled back. They hadn’t done anything to his hand wound because it hadn’t broken the skin, but the injury looked irritated. Hakyeon wished he could kiss it and make it go away, but that would probably just hurt a lot. 

“Makes sense. Might as well make it as hard as possible for this thing to get us.” He glanced at the bedroom warily, mind flitting back to the earlier incident. Anything that made that monster slow down for a split second was good in his book.

“Well,” Hakyeon said, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet. “This calls for a trip to the store.”

Gathering themselves up and making sure that they were aptly covered, Taekwoon and Hakyeon made their way out of their small home and started walking towards the closest store that would have a wider variety of flashlights and batteries. When Hakyeon suggested that they walk, Taekwoon looked at him skeptically.

They both knew how well the whole walking thing was going for them. Now that they knew they seemed to be sharing wounds, the prospect of Hakyeon getting hurt was that more unappealing. On the other hand, getting into a fast-moving vehicle sounded like it could be way worse.

“I definitely don’t want to do this trip at night,” Hakyeon added. Taekwoon nodded, the motion small but vigorous.

They both had their shoes on, facing the front door, but they weren’t moving. Hakyeon took a deep breath. He was nervous. All the tumbles he took were planned by something beyond his comprehension, and he had learned the hard way that he didn’t actually need anything to trip on in order to take a hell of a fall. He could be pushed and pulled around, and there was nothing they could do about it.

Taekwoon gently grasped Hakyeon’s arm and pulled him toward the door. He really wanted to hold Hakyeon’s hand and lead him all the way to the store, but Hakyeon’s hands were out of commission for a while. Instead, Taekwoon opened the front door, holding it open so Hakyeon could pass through without using his hands.

“Let’s get there and back fast without any problems, alright?” Hakyeon said, trying to motivate himself. Taekwoon nodded and they stepped outside. 

***

Ravi meandered down the sidewalk, glancing interestedly into the shop windows. He was heading to a store where he commonly bought supplies for his coffee shop, but liked to take his time getting there. He stopped in front of a window displaying about twenty flavors of licorice, grimacing at the idea of cola or pear flavored. He leaned closer, trying to get a better view of a flavor that was a disturbing bright yellow when his forehead thunked against the glass.

He jerked back, surprised. Pulling his sleeve over the palm of his hand, Ravi scrubbed at the oval forehead mark on the window. Nope, still not clean. The vigorous wiping slowed down and came to a halt as his eyes focused on what was reflected in the window. Two tall men had just passed behind him, one smiling and one stone-faced.

Ravi slowly turned around, his hand sliding off the window and dropping to his side. It was Hakyeon and Taekwoon, his Sunday regulars. He smiled a little, watching them walk away, hands close and almost touching, but not quite. Hakyeon’s hands were bandaged more than they had been the last time he’d seen them, Ravi noticed, becoming concerned. He was going to call out a greeting, but stopped before the sound had left his throat.

Something wasn’t right. In fact, something was incredibly wrong. 

Ravi took a step in their direction as if pulled, and silently, compelled, he began to follow them.

The couple was walking quickly without making any turns, so they were easy to follow. He hung back a ways so they wouldn’t notice him, but Ravi had a tight feeling in his gut that became almost painful when they got too far away. The longer he watched them, the more details Ravi noticed that only confirmed his gut feeling. Hakyeon looked like he had seen better days, with a brace around one hand and bandages covering the other. Taekwoon’s shoulders were visibly tight and his gait kept him in extremely close proximity to his husband. Ravi could feel the pair with his whole self; feel something sick and wrong enveloping them like a cloud of choking smog.

Hakyeon smiled wearily, tugged Taekwoon closer, and flicked him on the nose.

Ravi felt like his insides had been twisted into a knot and squeezed. He knees almost buckled as the dark feeling surged in intensity.

Looking thoughtful, Taekwoon yanked Hakyeon’s sleeve to stop him in front of a window with rare and out of print books on display. Taekwoon mouthed something and gestured to the top shelf in the window.

Ravi ducked around the side of the building into a skinny alley. Panting, he peered around the corner. Taekwoon was squinting at the window, occasionally glancing over at Hakyeon. Unbeknownst to both men, Hakyeon’s shadow was rippling. The man was standing completely still, but his shadow writhed in place. Ravi blinked. The shadow was motionless again, following only the movements of he who cast it. As he watched, the shadow twitched tentatively. 

Taekwoon and Hakyeon still didn’t notice. 

As if testing its limits, the dark shape twitched again, edges undulating.

Ravi felt physically sick. He watched in horror as Hakyeon’s shadow pulled in on itself, withdrawing from the cement and sliding toward the bottom of Hakyeon’s shoes. Parts of it were still whipping out, faint but observable. Sliding down the wall, Ravi sat on the gravel-strewn cement not six feet from the pair, but unable to move or warn them. Some of the tentacle-like projections were coming close to the corner of the building. The café owner calmed his breathing, hoping that Taekwoon and Hakyeon would look at the books for at least another minute.

“Do you want to go in or not?” Hakyeon huffed, tugging Taekwoon’s hand like an impatient child. Taekwoon glared slightly. 

“Wait.” 

Hakyeon pouted, but stayed put.

Ravi sighed in relief. Luckily, the small downtown area wasn’t too busy mid-morning, so there was no one to see Ravi sitting in the alley like a stalker. Peeking around again, he waited until one of the lashing tendrils of shadow flicked toward him. With one lightning fast movement, he slammed his hand over the end, trapping it. Gravel pressed into his palm and a bolt of pure, unadulterated rage shot through him, physically searing his hand and making his heart rate skyrocket. Ravi gasped, head snapping up and eyes glowing white. He pushed against the dark, shadowy entity, trying to get it to release its thorn-like grip on Hakyeon.

Thick darkness crawled up his hand and slid through his veins, making them bulge darkly. Ravi slammed his eyes shut as their glow intensified. Pain was starting to lance up his arms in sharp spikes. The dark tentacle thrashed beneath his hand, trying to wrench itself away. Ravi bore down again, struggling to pull the dark thing’s essence away from Hakyeon, but whenever he made progress, the entity pulled back twice as hard and began to wiggle from his grasp.

“If you’re so interested in the books, we can go in and look before we go and get lights,” Hakyeon offered, peering at the front door. “The shop’s open.”

Taekwoon thought for a moment. “Okay.”

No! Ravi thought, the tendons in his neck taut from the strain. Taekwoon and Hakyeon stepped toward the door and the shadow followed, physically yanking Ravi to the side. His shoulder was grinding against the brick wall and sweat was trickling down his scalp, skirting his eyes and dripping down his cheeks like tears. He wasn’t going to be able to do it. The thing was too powerful and he couldn’t defeat it. The realization burned, a painful echo of his stinging hand.

Taekwoon and Hakyeon stepped inside the book shop, pulling the creature out of Ravi’s range. The writhing tentacle ripped itself from Ravi’s power, leaving a plume of sickness behind like ink in water. The door to the shop clicked shut, cutting off the sound of Hakyeon’s voice. 

The creature’s hold on him gone, Ravi lurched to the side, dragged himself further into the alley, and threw up. He coughed wretchedly as nausea seized him again and rested his forehead against the cool, grainy brick.


	8. Chapter 8

The smell of pages and dust immediately surrounded Hakyeon and Taekwoon when they stepped into the small bookstore. Taekwoon pulled the book from the top shelf of the window display, paged through it, scowled, and put it back. After his disappointment, he meandered through the tight array of bookcase. The shelves nearly reached the ceiling, so tall that even Taekwoon wouldn’t be able to reach the top shelf.

Hakyeon followed him around, slightly dazed and deep in thought. Following Taekwoon into a tiny niche surrounded by bookshelves, Hakyeon stood as close as he could to his husband. Gently lifting his arms, Hakyeon wrapped them around the silent man and nuzzled his face into his broad chest. Taekwoon looked down at the top of Hakyeon’s head, unsure of what was going on.

“Do you think there could be a book about it?” Hakyeon muttered into Taekwoon’s chest, the sound of his voice muffled.

“That was my thought,” Taekwoon replied. “Let’s look.”

Hakyeon let his arms drop from Taekwoon’s waist, making sure to keep his hands close so he didn’t bash them against the bookshelves. He turned around to skim the bookshelf on his right while Taekwoon scanned the opposite side.

“Wrong section,” Taekwoon said, and Hakyeon nodded. They were in the fantasy section, and as much as they wished this was all some sort of bad dream from a fictional novel, what they were dealing with was as real as it got. Browsing on the outside edges of the shelves, they found their way to the nonfiction section and started from opposite ends.

Taekwoon was ready to give up after a good twenty minutes of thorough searching, but Hakyeon scurried over and interrupted him. “I think I may have found something, but the cover doesn’t inspire much confidence,” he said.

Taekwoon inspected the book Hakyeon had cradled in the crook of his elbow. The cover was garish. It had black rhinestones and dark red pentagrams spread randomly over the cover, making it look cluttered and unplanned. In a terrible, corny font that was made to look like dripping blood, the book proudly pronounced its contents: Everything Dark.

The taller man tugged it from Hakyeon’s arms and flipped the front cover open. He stopped at the table of contents to quickly get the gist of the book.

“So?” Hakyeon asked warily, “Is it any good? It must be, at least a little bit. It is in the nonfiction section.”

Taekwoon sighed before handing the open book back to Hakyeon. Frowning, Hakyeon read through the table of contents.

“1. Instruments of Power. 2. Dark Angels. 3. Necromancy. 4. Binding Spells. 5. Seals. 6. Abra-Melin Magic. 7. Spirit Conjuration and Discharge,” Hakyeon read aloud, becoming more incredulous with each chapter title. “Really?” he asked in disappointed disbelief, snapping the book shut. One of the rhinestones was crooked.

Taekwoon set a heavy palm on the text to stop Hakyeon from throwing it in disgust. “Remember,” he said, “Things we didn’t believe in before are here.” He gently motioned to Hakyeon’s bandaged hand, his own welt bright against his skin. Hakyeon sucked in a breath. His hand squeezed the spine of the garish book. “I’m not saying everything in this book is true,” Taekwoon continued, “Just that we can no longer afford to ignore it or think it’s not real. Everything comes into question now, and we need all the help we can get.”

Hakyeon remembered his own terror at the sight of the thing in his bedroom, how it had such complete power over him. “Alright. I understand.” He rubbed his forehead tiredly. “The only other books in this section were The Satanic Bible and Demons of the Flesh: The Complete Guide to Left Hand Path Sex Magic. Nothing that’s useful for us.”

“Sex magic,” Taekwoon repeated, eyebrow raised.

“Yup.”

Taekwoon was at the register paying for Everything Dark. The young man behind the counter was having trouble with the cash drawer, so Hakyeon wandered off to skim the cookbooks. He was always game to try new recipes and force Taekwoon to try his experimental dishes. “I’m pretty sure you can’t put that in kimchi…” he muttered, frowning at a particularly frightening picture. A glance over at Taekwoon told him that the cashier was still struggling.

Hakyeon replaced the book and wandered further into the shelves, letting his fingers drag across the uneven row of spines. He reached another little niche at the end of the row and plucked an interestingly colored novel from the shelf. Fingers feeling chilled, he curled them into loose fists, careful of his injuries.

“Sorry about the wait. Thank you for stopping in,” the cashier rattled off, handing Taekwoon his book and receipt. Taekwoon nodded and turned to Hakyeon. He was gone. 

“Hakyeon?” Taekwoon called out. There was no response. Slightly worried, but knowing he couldn’t have wandered far, Taekwoon walked down the center aisle and glanced down every row.

Not only were Hakyeon’s fingers cold, but the tip of his nose was freezing to the touch. Hakyeon shoved the book back onto the shelf and breathed into his cupped hands, redirecting the warm air to his nose. Were the lights dimmer back here? Glancing up, he inspected the light embedded in the ceiling. As he watched, the light dimmed slowly, flickered, and went out completely.

Oh no, Hakyeon thought wildly, mind instantly switching to panic mode.

Hakyeon couldn’t help but to peek back into the corner were his own shadow was thrown by the lights in the rest of the store. The gray patch of shadow grew deeper as he watched and spread across the shelves like spilled paint. 

He ran.

Taekwoon was working his way back through the store, having failed to locate his partner the first time down the center aisle. Just as he was moving to the next vacant aisle, something crashed into him. Taekwoon caught himself on the shelf, but Everything Dark thumped to the floor. “Hakyeon!” he exclaimed, turning to his partner. Hakyeon was panting. Without a word, he swept the book off the floor, clamped down on Taekwoon’s wrist, and dragged him toward the front door.

“It’s here!” he hissed, dragging Taekwoon along. Taekwoon paled, but got his feet beneath him and quickly strode to the door. He shot a glance at Hakyeon’s shadow, which was unnaturally long and thin, stretching away and curving down one of the aisles. He shuddered and pushed Hakyeon ahead of him, eager to get into the sunlight.

The pair threw the doors open and rushed outside. Not willing to dawdle any longer, they half-ran down the street toward a small complex of shops that were sure to carry a variety of light sources.

***

Ravi wearily crawled further into the alley and collapsed against the wall, body hidden by a tall stack of cardboard boxes. His arms burned faintly and he still felt like he might be sick if he moved too quickly. 

He heard the jingle of the bookstore door, and another wave of nausea attacked him. The heavy thuds of hurried footsteps grew quieter as they rushed away from him.

With slightly trembling hands, he fumbled his phone from his pocket. It took him three tries to unlock the screen and another minute to press the correct contact. Ravi took deep, fortifying breaths as the phone rang. It was picked up after the third ring. 

“Ken,” Ravi sighed in relief, tense shoulders sagging. “Yes. Could you…come get me?” The barista’s chatter was comforting and familiar. “By the used bookstore. Keys are in the drawer.”

Ravi stared at his screen after the call ended and let his hand fall to his lap. There was trouble brewing, and Taekwoon and Hakyeon were in the center of it. Resting his head against the rough brick, the man closed his eyes fell into a fitful doze.

“Ravi. Ravi! Ravi! Are you okay?”

Ken crouched beside his boss, hand shaking the man’s shoulder. It had taken him a while to actually find Ravi, as concealed as he was, and the first stage of panic had started when he walked past the puddle of sick in the alley. Ken had nearly fallen over in shock when he saw the man crumpled on the cement, and was nearly in full-blown panic mode because Ravi wasn’t waking up.

After one more vigorous shake, Ravi came alive. He gasped, eyes flying open, and unintentionally slammed his head into the wall. “Ow, dammit,” he cursed, cradling the back of his head.

“God, Ravi,” Ken exclaimed, “You look like shit.”

As ill as he was, Ravi could still manage a flat look. While he may look like something the cat dragged in, it really wasn’t what he wanted Ken to focus on. “Help me up, you ass,” he mumbled.

Ken leaned down to pull Ravi’s arm around his shoulders. After helping his boss from the dirty concrete and around the puddle of sick, they lurched toward the car. Ravi stumbled a few times and paused because he felt nauseous, but he and Ken managed to slowly maneuver him into the passenger seat of his own car.

Ken glanced at Ravi before he started the short trek to the café, studying the man strapped into the passenger seat. The dark material of the seat belt was stark against the papery white of Ravi’s skin, and his torso was limp against the door, head resting against the window. Ravi’s eyes were shut and his eyebrows were pinched together.

The ride back home was short and quiet. Ken dialed the radio down and let the gentle trill of a piano cover the hum of the engine. Threading his way through skinny side streets, Ken carefully slotted Ravi’s car into a reserved spot behind the coffee shop. The sound of the engine cut out and Ken pocketed the keys.

The young barista gently smoothed his fingers over Ravi’s shoulder. “Ravi, we’re here.” He was growing more worried about Ravi; he seemed so out of it even though the car ride couldn’t have been more than five minutes.

Ravi’s eyes cracked open and studied Ken’s face, disoriented. Blinking rapidly to clear his vision, he pushed himself upright on the door. Ravi’s lips pressed into a thin line before twisting into an unhappy expression. “I need to brush my teeth.” Ravi muttered tiredly.

“Please don’t tell me about your vomit mouth. Let’s get you up to your apartment so you can sleep off whatever happened to you,” Ken replied, the small glint of humor in his eye returning now that Ravi was awake and speaking.

Ravi just gripped the car door for a moment before nudging it open. The door slowed and started to fall shut again, bouncing off Ravi’s leg. Ken jogged around the car and pulled the door away so Ravi could get out of the car unmolested. Ravi lugged himself up and out using the doorframe and shuffled along, hand trailing against the uneven red brick wall to the back door of the building.

Ken followed Ravi into the private hallway that housed the stairs, staying directly behind his manager as he forced himself up the steps. Ken doubted that he would be able to catch Ravi if he were to fall, but supposed he would get time off if his boss was the one who caused him injury. As it was, Ravi’s might not be open for a while. The man looked incredibly sick. Hell, he’d let Ken drive his car. If that wasn’t a warning sign that something was wrong, then nothing was.

The pair stopped in front of a chipped wooden door at the top of the stairs. Ken pulled the keys from his pocket and handed them to Ravi, who rested his head against the door as he fumbled for the correct key. As he heard the click of the final lock opening, Ravi swung the door open, almost stumbling forward when he lost his support. Ken steadied him and guided his boss into his small but neat apartment.

Walking though the living room and almost staggering into the dark brown couch, Ravi lurched around a corner and straight into his bedroom. He collapsed on his unmade bed. Ken stood in the doorway, a half-smile softening his worried expression, as he watched Ravi go limp.

“I thought you wanted to brush your teeth,” Ken reminded the man. He resented himself a little for bothering the clearly suffering Ravi, but thought leaving his puke-mouth to compound with morning breath was too cruel.

Ravi groaned as he flipped onto his back. He rested there for a minute. Before he could get up, Ken returned with a toothbrush dabbed with toothpaste. Ravi propped himself up on an elbow so he didn’t choke and vigorously scrubbed his teeth, happy to have his mouth flooded with the sharp bite of artificial mint. Ken disappeared from the corner of his eye, returning a minute later with a half-full glass of water.

When he was finished, Ravi handed the toothbrush off to Ken, not caring about how weirdly personal it was to have his employee in his bedroom, helping him brush his teeth. Ravi sipped the water, swished it around, and spat it back into the cup. Ken took the items back to the bathroom. He rinsed the toothbrush and dropped it into its cup, emptied the glass, washed it out, filled it with cold water, and returned it to Ravi’s bedside table.

Ravi just lay on his back, tongue running over his clean teeth.

“I hope you feel better,” Ken said, hovering by the bedroom door. “I’ll take care of the café, so don’t worry about it.”

Ravi cracked one of his eyes open, “Thanks, Ken.”

As Ken turned to leave, Ravi’s sleepy mind conjured one last clear thought.

I need to help them.

***

Hakyeon and Taekwoon left the bookstore clearly in a hurry, dodging the other pedestrians the best they could as they walked.

Giving a loud and slightly panicked, ‘excuse me’ whenever they bumped in to another grumpy looking person, Hakyeon and Taekwoon were firmly straddling the line between walking and jogging. They lengthened their strides as much as possible, and every once in a while they jogged for four or so steps, then shifted back into power walking. 

The store was just ahead, and by God, did they want to get there as fast as possible. They pushed themselves hard as they neared the building, legs pumping hard and burning slightly with the extended exertion. Taekwoon was more accustomed to such strain being a soccer player, but Hakyeon was really feeling the stress, not to mention Taekwoon’s stupidly longs legs made it hard to keep up.

Although Hakyeon was paranoid that he could have a bad fall going at this pace, it seemed whatever was haunting them didn’t affect him during his small workout.

Rushing through the set of automatic doors, they only slowed down when they were finally inside of the building.

“Let’s get what we need and get home,” Hakyeon gasped, leaning on the wall. Some of his bright red hair was sticking up in places from the fast pace, while some of his bangs were stuck to his forehead due to a very light sweat he worked up on the not-quite-jog down busy city blocks.

Taekwoon nodded, eyes skimming the store’s aisles. They headed past the front counters and towards aisles that contained everything from space heaters, wood, and power tools, to light fixtures, glue, and paint. Taekwoon grabbed Hakyeon’s wrist once again while keeping their slightly questionable literary purchase clutched in the opposite hand. He didn’t let his grip loosen a little bit, even as he felt his palm get sweaty against the rhinestone embedded cover.

They both turned into the aisle containing flashlights, light bulbs, and other electric light sources and started skimming the merchandise.

“Well, ones that last the longest would be the best, right? We don’t know if we can even get rid of this thing,” Hakyeon shivered as he spoke. Even merely talking about the subject made him uncomfortable.

Just when Hakyeon’s breathing had finally returned to normal, the light immediately dimmed around them, flickering even though the overhead lights appeared to be functioning without problems. The couple was surrounded by a bubble of darkness that didn’t affect the rest of the store. 

Taekwoon immediately noticed the dimming of the immediate area and turned as fast as he could toward Hakyeon. Sadly, Hakyeon was just out of arm’s reach. 

The small circular shadow directly below Hakyeon rippled. Suddenly, his shadow shot off of the ground, abandoning any physical support. A thin black strip twisted in air as if curiously testing the air. Hakyeon’s head jerked back as he warily watched the shadow. He wanted to slowly step back, but he couldn’t move his legs. It was like dealing with a poisonous snake that was sure to strike, but he couldn’t tell when. 

The shadow gave up on waiting and launched itself toward Hakyeon’s face. Hakyeon managed to turn away from the attack, causing it to miss his eyes. The band ran along his cheekbone, opening a long, thin cut.

Before he could regain his balance, Hakyeon felt something grab the back of his collar yank him backward. He was very aware of how damaging another fall on his hands could be; his wrist was still strapped into the brace, and he was constantly aware of the painful wound on his other hand. He had to swallow a yelp when the shadow ripped him backwards, where he was least likely to catch himself.

He fell flat on his back, and his head bounced off the concrete floor. Hakyeon’s face twisted and his hand shot up to gingerly touch his cheek. It stung like hell and his fingers came away bloodied.

“Taekwoon,” Hakyeon said with a cracked voice, “Are you okay?” 

When Taekwoon approached his fallen husband, Hakyeon could see the damage. Red was blooming on his cheekbone and the spot was beginning to swell. Taekwoon was frowning deeply, eyebrows furrowed, as he examined the blood running down his husbands face and dripping onto the floor.

An employee suddenly passed at the end of the aisle, spotted them, and started jogging to them with a small curse. A young man of twenty or so stopped next to them.

“I had really hoped that thud was merchandise and not customer,” he said, shaking his shaggy hair from his face. “Let me call for a manager.” He reached up to tap his radio ear piece. 

Taekwoon turned away and crouched next to Hakyeon, “How bad did you hit your head?”

“My back took most of the fall, I think. It hurts, and probably will for a while, but I don’t think I have a concussion. I’ve had harder falls lately.” Taekwoon knew. He didn’t like the fact that his husband had probably bashed head on more things in the past couple of days than he had for the great majority of his life. Hakyeon closed his eyes, not wanting to look at the wound that was slowly growing on Taekwoon’s handsome face.

Hakyeon opened his eyes moments later to Taekwoon gently applying the gauze and tape to his face. The manager was standing back, quietly conversing with her employee. At the sight of Taekwoon, Hakyeon wanted to cry. “It’s worse, Taekwoon. It’s worse than the one on your hand.” 

Rather than Taekwoon’s injury being a less serious mirror of what was inflicted upon Hakyeon’s face, the line across Taekwoon’s strong cheekbone looked like a very full blood blister. It was raised, as if the blood could barely be contained under a thin layer of skin. Taekwoon’s lips thinned. “We need to get rid of this thing fast.”

As soon as the manager and employee left the aisle, the lights pulsed a final time and blood oozed down Taekwoon's cheek. Taekwoon folded an extra piece of gauze he grabbed from the first aid kit and held it to his face to stop the bleeding. He pulled Hakyeon to his feet. Hakyeon snagged a plastic shopping basket and dumped their purchases inside. They moved to the candle aisle next, grabbing various unscented candles before moving on.

"There are flashlights that crank, right?" Hakyeon asked, scanning the aisle signs. "We should get at least one that doesn't run on batteries." Taekwoon followed behind, still applying pressure to the painful cut on his face. The gauze was quickly becoming wet with blood.


	9. Chapter 9

Fifteen minutes later found them firmly closing the front door of their humble home. The lights were still burning bright in every room. Hakyeon emptied their various flashlights, lamps, candles, and a small gas-powered lantern onto the coffee table in the living room. "Once we get set up, one of us can read the new book and the other can research on the laptop," Hakyeon decided. Taekwoon, who had disappeared from the room, didn't disagree. He reappeared with a fresh band aid angled across his cheek.

Despite the fear, the pain, and the particular torture of not knowing what was coming next and when it would hit them, Hakyeon could feel something strong in his chest. There was a metal core there, something that wouldn’t allow him to fold or give into the terror that lurked on the edges of his mind. If he gave in, the first thing he would do is cry. Second, he’d become completely useless. Death would arrive shortly thereafter. To keep that terror from drowning him, Hakyeon would research anything, read any rhinestone-covered book, and light up his world through any means possible until his dying breath. He owed it Taekwoon and he owed it to himself.

Hakyeon stood and turned to face Taekwoon. He rested his hands on the man's shoulders and drew a thumb across his jaw. "We're matching miserable idiots," Hakyeon lamented, eyeing Taekwoon’s cut. He tapped his husband on the nose. “So do you want the book or the laptop?” He paused. “The book. That’s what I thought.”

Taekwoon was curled up on the couch with Hakyeon beside him. They were ringed with flickering candles and the gas lantern stood proudly in the center of the coffee table. “It looks like we’re going to have a séance, or something,” Hakyeon commented before booting up the laptop. Taekwoon just opened Everything Dark, accidentally cracking the spine. A rhinestone stuck to the palm of his hand while another dropped onto his pants. He looked Hakyeon, but the man just shrugged.

It didn’t take long for Hakyeon to find something. “There seems to be a supernatural phenomenon called ‘shadow people’ or a ‘shadow person.’ It actually pretty close to what’s been going on with us.” Taekwoon shifted closer to Hakyeon, craning his neck slightly to get a good look at the screen.

“It has the right look, at least. This book, uh, Life After Death, at least gives us a nice place to start. I kinda want make a venn diagram, just so I can sort this all out.”

Taekwoon smiled slightly, thinking of teaching his children the valuable technique of drawing two circles to visually categorize similarities and differences. He wondered how his fellow teachers were doing without him. Blinking himself back to his current issue, Taekwoon carefully read the pages of the Life After Death that had been scanned onto the internet.

“Ours doesn’t flicker in the edge of our vision,” Taekwoon finally spoke up.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Hakyeon’s face dropped slightly, “I read through a couple of websites, including some that featured space ships in the background. There are definitely differences between what these ‘professionals’ say shadow people are and what they can do compared to our active specter.”

Hakyeon lifted his hand and pointed at the screen, underlining the parts he wanted Taekwoon to look over.

“These people give us five basic beliefs: aliens, astral projections, demons, inter-dimensional beings, and finally, time travelers.”

Hakyeon was fidgeting slightly, glancing at the flickering candles. Looking at the uncertainty that was written all over his face, Taekwoon gently grasped Hakyeon’s fingers, careful of his wounds

“This sounds so ridiculous. This is what teenagers look up for fun and laugh at, because it’s so preposterous,” Hakyeon grumbled.

“I know,” Taekwoon huffed.

Hakyeon continued. “When I sifted through things that I found, the only thing that our thing has in common with the so-called ‘shadow person’ is that it’s in human form and its dark. Ours doesn’t do any of the same things.” Hakyeon dragged his fingers across the laptop touch pad, clicking to pull up a different tab. “Our shadow person is so much more active, and it can freely move. It isn’t a shadow in my peripheral vision or on its own; it’s stuck fast to my own shadow. And it doesn’t want to choke me to death. It really has a tendency to slice.”

“The connection isn’t there.” Taekwoon added. That was the part that bothered them the most, because these things that are portrayed in the research online didn’t have any records of causing open wounds. The connection between the two men, wherein one suffers an injury in the same spot, seemed unique to them.

“How is the book going?” Hakyeon asked, “This seems like a dead end. We can try some of the things suggested to prevent the shadow, but I don’t have much faith that they’ll work.”

Taekwoon looked at the book once again. He skipped to the back pages because while it wasn’t a textbook, it was likely that a book like this would have an index. The index was short, but helpful. Taekwoon’s eyes skipped across the terms until he found ideas that sounded like they related to their problem.

“Does our shadow have a hat?” Taekwoon questioned. Hakyeon shook his head and said, “No, it doesn’t have a hat. It appears in the form of a child, usually. Why?”

Taekwoon pointed to a section with a bold header that read The Hat Man. 

“A theory is that the Hat Man is the devil.” Hakyeon chuckled at the idea. “Well, it’s good we don’t have that one, then. We have it bad enough already.”

Sitting up from the couch where he was cuddled with Hakyeon, Taekwoon started to rattle off some of his findings. Hakyeon was stunned at the amount of words coming from the soft spoken man.

“Ours doesn’t have eyes, a hood, or a hat. It doesn’t try to choke you. That eliminates a lot of what I’ve read so far. It seems this book is dedicated to explaining what the phenomenon is, rather than how to deal with it. What we have seems unprecedented.” Taekwoon pinched all the pages together and let them slide off his thumb, watching the blur of words go by. The air from the rapidly moving pages made the flame of a candle behind them flicker unhappily.

Taekwoon stopped flipping the pages just before the index and other informational pages began. There was a blank page featuring a small line of text, to emphasize it. Taekwoon read it out loud.

“Remember, for every dark, there is a light.”

***

Ravi felt a lot better after sleeping off the side effects of his encounter with the shadow creature. He cracked his eyes open, right eye hardly opening because it was pressed into the pillow. He was still belly down on the bed in his street clothes. He took a small mental evaluation of how he felt, happy to find that the incredible nausea and fatigue were pretty much gone. A glance out the window revealed that the sky had fallen dark. There was even a star or two peeking through the clouds. 

He was temporarily confused, unsure of how long he actually managed to sleep. Ravi didn’t actually require much sleep; about three hours maximum each night in order to be ready for the next day. He wasn’t even sure he’d call it sleep. Ravi wasn’t human and while he was sure his body didn’t work quite the same way, he didn’t really know why or how it did what it did, but he did know that he had “slept” for far longer than usual.

Ravi sat up, placing his feet on the floor and rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes, then dragged his fingers through the curly blond mass on his head. The sigh was cleansing. “I should go check on Ken.”

As he made his way down to the café, he started considering finally telling Ken what was going on. He knew Ken had seen him in the alley the other day and was surprised the excitable young man decided against grilling him about it. Ken had proven himself, time and time again, to be a really good friend who was loyal to a fault. It was just a couple of years that Ken began working at the café, and despite the clumsiness that only seemed to get worse and the occasional whining, Ken was honest and respectful. Ravi figured now was probably the best time for Ken to know, and really, the cat was already out of the bag. 

Ravi slipped into to cafe through the hidden back door, making sure to muffle his steps. Yes, Ken was a great employee, but Ravi would never pass up on a chance to surprise him or check on what he was doing. Concealed behind a compact set of supply shelves, the cafe owner silently listened as Ken concisely and politely took an order. When Ken was turned away, Ravi tip-toed around the shelf, pulled out the milk for the next order, and started measuring it out. A yelp and some concerning rattling announced that Ken had turned around to find Ravi helping him as if he'd been there all day.

"Ravi!" Ken hissed, hands occupied with chocolate syrup, "What are you doing?" 

Ravi was looking down at his mug, careful to get the exact measurement. "Making coffee."

He could hear the eye roll. 

"Do you really think you should be up?" Ken demanded. Ravi was saved from answering for a moment when the first drink was done. He handed his half-finished coffee to Ken, who was returning to the machine he needed. The barista instinctively took the mug, too used to working in tandem with his boss. He scowled as a rumpled Ravi skirted around him and disappeared into the cafe proper. Seeing the terrible condition the man had been in when he got to the alley, there was no way he should be up and making caffeinated beverages. Not to mention they needed to have a serious conversation about how that whole situation happened in the first place.

Ken closed the café by himself. The work didn’t even bother him. He swept, scrubbed the machines and tabletops, and stocked the supply shelves almost absent-mindedly while thinking about Ravi. The man hadn’t showed his face since disappearing over an hour ago. 

Just as Ken was reaching to shut the lights off, he caught a glimpse of Ravi’s light hair from the corner of his eye. His hand stopped in midair, the fingers curling into a loose fist. 

“Turn them off, please.” The words floated across the dim room, uncharacteristically soft. With a dull click, the room fell into darkness. Since the café was underground, there were no windows for moonlight to peek into, and the door was solid wood. Ken couldn’t see his own hand in front of his face, let alone make it to the table Ravi had claimed in one piece. 

Ken was about to say something, mutter some inane question or ask Ravi what exactly he thought he was doing, but a rustle and a faint glow shut him up before he even began. For a second Ken thought Ravi had a flashlight, but the pure quality of the light forced his thoughts down a different path until the image from his night as a sneaky spy clicked into place. This was it. The things that Ravi had been hiding from him for so long were finally coming to light, no pun intended. 

Light bloomed into the darkness, tracing white lines along Ravi’s face. Ken stepped forward, fascinated and only slightly frightened. He knew that Ravi wouldn’t hurt him. Just like before, the light was a few inches above Ravi’s hand, wobbling slightly. Ken brushed by two small tables, making his way toward his boss. 

Ken finally reached Ravi. Curiously, the light was only a soft glow. In the alley, it had been bright enough to make his eyes water from quite a distance. Ravi glanced up at Ken for a second, his expression soft, but tinged with a happy spark that Ken had never seen before. His mouth dropped open of its own volition from a sort of stunned shock, but Ravi had already turned away. 

Ravi’s hand slowly drifted toward his chest, palm steady and fingers sure. Almost without realizing it, Ken’s fingers slid onto Ravi’s shoulder until his palm was curved around the gentle slope. The light touched Ravi’s chest and the glow brightened again before it sank into him. Ravi’s chin rose until he was looking straight up at the ceiling, through it to some beyond that Ken couldn’t even imagine. His eyes glowed hot white and Ken’s palm grew warm, then unbearably hot. 

When the light faded, Ravi’s body cooled rapidly. He sighed and a wisp of pure white smoke curled from his lips and quickly faded into the returning darkness. 

Ken reached back, hand fumbling for a chair. He yanked it out, hardly noticing the ugly screech of legs across the floor. Though the café had returned to its previous darkness, Ken still had imprints of the light smarting across his vision, giving life to shapes that didn’t exist. He collapsed into the chair and folded in half, elbows resting on his knees and head clutched in his hands. It really wasn’t a good time to have the freak out, but then again, Ken never was lucky. 

He totally wasn’t hyperventilating. Nope, not one bit. There was no way the encroaching darkness was from lack of oxygen and would probably end with his sprawled ungracefully on the floor. You’ve seen weirder Ken, the barista thought, Yeah, totally. Ummm… when? his inner voice replied. Great. Now he was arguing with himself. His mind had finally snapped. Oh, he was too young to go. He’d had so much potential. He could have been a pop star!

He was startled out of his inner dialogue when something touched his shoulder.  
Ken’s head jerked up to find Ravi looking at him concernedly. A small flashlight was balanced on its end in the middle of the table, spilling just enough light into the darkened room. Ravi’s chair had migrated around the table so their knees were almost touching. “Are you okay?” he asked, pulling Ken’s hands away from his face. 

“Since when did you double as a glow stick?” Ken blurted out. His hands snapped back to his mouth and his eyes shot wide with barely contained horror. He did not mean to say that. He so did not mean to say that. 

Surprisingly, Ravi just leaned back and laughed. “You’re great, Ken, you know that?” he chuckled, still trying to catch his breath. 

Ken’s hands fell back into his lap and he stared at his boss. “I need a drink,” he lamented.

Ravi was on his feet in an instant, almost scaring Ken, and disappeared behind the dark counter. It seemed like he could see just fine in the dark, because he didn’t trip over a single chair or bang his hip into the edge of a table. A short minute later, he returned with a burgundy ceramic mug cradled in his hands. 

“Here.” Ravi set it gently in front of Ken, careful not to spill any of the drink over the sides. He plopped back into his chair. 

Ken tentatively reached forward and clasped the mug. The warmth of the ceramic reminded him of the near-scalding heat of Ravi’s shoulder just minutes before. He took a sip, delighted to find rich hot chocolate. “How did you make this so fast?” he asked, licking whipped cream from his lip. “Is that magic too?”

Ravi grinned fondly, but shook his head. “We had some hot water left over…and I just used a pack of instant hot chocolate mix.”

Ken almost dropped the mug. “Sacrilege! A coffee shop using instant powder? Did that light fry your brain?” He scoffed in disgust, but took another hearty swig of his drink. “Where do you even keep those? I’ve never seen a box of Nestle hot cocoa mix lying around on the supply shelves, you heathen.”

The café owner was still grinning. “I’ll never tell.”

“And you did it in the dark,” Ken muttered resentfully, sipping again.

Ravi didn’t reply.

“When I said ‘drink,’ I meant alcohol,” Ken mumbled. 

Ravi just looked at him.

The only sound was Ken’s slurping, which eventually tapered off as he finished his hot chocolate. It had been the perfect temperature and incredibly rich despite consisting only of hot water and fake chocolate powder. That was magic and no one could tell him otherwise. 

“So…” Ravi started. He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly nervous. Ken would go as far to say that he looked embarrassed. He gestured for him to go on. “I’m not exactly human?” Ravi offered. It sounded like a question. 

“Okaaaay,” Ken said slowly. He paused. “Are you an alien?”

Ken’s face was getting disturbingly close to Ravi’s. Ravi pushed it away. “What is that look? I’m not an alien! You’re freaking me out.”

Ken let his butt plop back into his chair. He was leaning across the table at an awkward angle. “Woah, woah, woah, there, boss. You’re the one getting freaked out?” Ken exclaimed, “You just told me that you’re not even human!”

Ravi set his elbows on the table and his chin on top of his clasped hands. Ken grew uncomfortable as a sly grin spread across Ravi’s lips. He opened his mouth and said, “Well, you already kind of knew that, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

Ken was stunned. He had known in the back of his head that Ravi noticed him the night in the alley, but he was finally being called out on it. 

Seeing that he was getting no intelligent response from his employee Ravi continued, “Don’t think that I didn’t notice you when you were going all double-oh-seven on me, buddy. You’re not exactly a trained spy.”

“B-but,” Ken started, “You were facing the away from me the entire time! How could you have seen me?”

“Other than my awesome supernatural sensing abilities that come with being ‘a human glow stick’ as you call it, which made me aware of you the entire time, I merely glanced your direction and saw your head poking out from behind the building. You weren’t exactly hiding well,” Ravi almost scolded him, “Near the end of the whole thing, you were so stunned that you didn’t get out of the way fast enough.”

Ken ran his hand through his slightly frazzled hair. “Do have any intention whatsoever of eating me?” he choked out.

Ravi’s eyes went wide, then narrowed and he pressed his lips into a tight line. “That’s exactly it, Ken. I have been feeding you nice sugary hot chocolate so I can get you all fat and eat you.” Ravi’s eyes glittered eerily in the half-light. “And now that you’ve figured out my nefarious plan, I’ll have to kill you.” Ravi leaned backwards in his chair, shadows growing on his face due to the cold glow of the flashlight.

Just before Ken could make a mad sprint for the door, he heard something loud and harsh come from the far side of the table. It took him a second to realize that it was actually uproarious laughter. 

“Oh my God, you should have seen your face!” Through his laughter, Ravi managed to get out, “You were like,” and then he did a bad imitation of Ken with his eyes as wide open as he physically could. “You are the greatest, Ken. That was priceless.” Ravi chuckled, trying to calm down a bit. 

Ken just sat there, slightly miffed he had been fooled and thoroughly laughed at. He wanted the conversation to continue, but every time he wanted to say something, Ravi would start chuckling again.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that every time I think about it, it makes me laugh. It was perfect.” Ravi brought his hands to his face, gently pushing his cheeks down as if it could make him stop grinning. “My cheeks hurt from smiling too much.”

Ken’s eyes narrowed as he said, “I’m sorry for your pain,” in a flat, unenthusiastic voice.

“But really, Ken. Eat you? Who do you think I am? Have you seen any evidence of me eating people back here or in my apartment?” 

As Ken thought back, he couldn’t think of anything that set off red flags that said, ‘murderer’.

“You’re safe, Ken. I’m not going to harm you or anyone else,” Ravi promised.

“Since I’m not in any mortal danger, then, can you explain what the whole light show was all about?” 

“Alright.” Ravi put his hand to his chest, “I am not human, which we’ve already established.” Ken nodded, keeping his eyes on Ravi’s face. “The truth is, I don’t really have a name for what I am. I’ve never met anyone else that’s the same as me. All I really know is that I’ve been here for a very, very long time, and I don’t get sick, older, or die.” Ravi removed his hand from his chest and cupped it in front of him.

“That orb that you saw be absorb,” he continued, “is actually something else entirely.”

Ken was hanging on his every word with wide eyes. “They’re not some kind of supernatural power ups, right?” 

Ravi actively stopped himself from rolling his eyes. It would be rude, and really, just about anything would be believable at this point. “We’re not in a video game. It’s not like picking them up makes me run twice as fast for thirty seconds or something like that. Think reasonably, please.” Ravi flicked Ken’s hand lightly as punishment for interrupting his explanation. “As I was saying, they are something else entirely. I don’t really have a name for them, but they come from people.”

“Like pieces of their broken heart, or something equally cheesy?” Ken suggested.

Ravi tipped his head back, thoughtful. “Kind of, but not really. It’s more like a change has happened in person, and that change has caused something to be left behind.”

“So these are pieces of people? You’re telling me you’re on human litter control?” 

Ravi didn’t look impressed. “I guess you could say that, though I wouldn’t. These aren’t like big chunks of people’s personalities floating around. It’s just change, and that happens to everybody.”

Ken thought back to his past. “So, when I decided that being silly and fun was what I wanted to do as a child, I left something of me behind?”

“Yeah, pretty much, if that’s something you can actively decide,” Ravi nodded with his hands on the table, “a small part of you, whether it be your passiveness or your shyness was left behind. So it was left floating in the form of a white orb like the one you saw earlier.”

“Okay, this is nice, but what do you do to these things?”

“I don’t really like leaving them just hanging around, and I get a real boost from taking one of these orbs in. Also, if the orb left behind is negative, I kind of purify it.”

Ken gave Ravi a look. 

“A boost, you say?” 

Ravi nodded. 

“So it’s like taking a hit of cocaine?”

Ravi froze, then started shaking his head. “I honestly have no idea where your mind goes,” he said wondrously. 

“So what does it feel like, then? What’s this boost?” Ken demanded. The only experience he had with “taking things in” was eating, and while that was nice, it probably wasn’t the same as absorbing somebody’s awkward teenage years. 

Ravi was laughing at him again. “I can see that rapturous food look on your face, Ken. Stop dreaming about my cinnamon rolls. You can’t have them.”

Ken snapped out of his pastry-induced haze. “Answer the question, Ravi.” His fingers absent-mindedly fiddled with his empty coffee mug. “What could that possibly feel like?” He met Ravi’s eyes from underneath his brown fringe. 

The older man sighed and slumped against the back of his chair. “It’s hard to describe,” he replied. Ken didn’t expect his boss to appear almost dreamy-eyed when he thought of the feeling. “It’s nice. Like, warm. It feels good for me, though maybe that’s just because I am what I am.” Seeing that Ken wasn’t getting any of that, Ravi tried to make it a bit more relatable. “Ken, put down the cup.” 

When Ken didn’t let go of his mug, Ravi reached over, pulled it out of his hands, and leaned back to slide it onto another table. He turned back around. “Now, close your eyes.”

With only a little grumbling, Ken’s eyes slid shut. Ravi took a split second to wonder at the capacity for trust and belief in humans. He’d freely admitted he wasn’t human for the first time in his very long life and Ken, a young human man, was willing to close his eyes after this admission, completely trusting Ravi not to harm him. The man had no idea what Ravi was capable of or his agenda, but was willing to trust Ravi, the single owner and manager of Ravi’s. The world was an amazing place, and Ravi was glad to be right there in that dark, warm shop with Ken, his ridiculous barista. 

An eye flicked open. “What are you doing?”

Ravi smiled. “Shut your eyes and listen.”

The eye flicked shut. 

“Okay, now imagine you just got home from a terrible day at work. Your boss drove you to near collapse, the customers were mean and picky, you knocked a whole stack of plates off the shelf…”

Ken’s whole face twisted at that last part, but he managed to stay silent.

“You’ve just gotten home. You strip down to your boxers, wiggle into your bed, and wrap yourself in your softest, most cuddly blanket. Your whole body relaxes, you’re off your sore feet, you’re warm. A thrill of happiness flurries in your chest. This is amazing, you think. This has got to be the happiest I’ve ever been. I’m never moving from this spot.”

Ravi’s voice faded into the rafters. Ken’s eyes slid open. 

“That’s how it feels,” Ravi said. “Nice, right?”

“So kind of like magical cocaine, then?” Ken insisted facetiously.

Ravi rolled his eyes. “Yes, exactly like a hit of magical cocaine.” 

Ken tapped on the table since Ravi had taken his mug away. He had nervous fingers. “Well, if a nice bit feels that good, then how does a part that you need to purify feel?” He hoped Ravi wouldn’t be upset by his question because he could only imagine that it wasn’t pleasant. 

Across the table, Ravi’s face was dappled with shadow. He frowned, but didn’t look angry. “How should I describe it?” he asked himself aloud. “It’s sort of like getting in the shower and turning on the water, but it’s unexpectedly freezing. Sort of a cold shock that slowly warms up.”

Ken was silent.

“I’ve had some tough ones though.” Ravi rubbed his chest as if to work out some kind of pain. “The bad ones are so cold it’s like knives. I guess, as if you’d jumped into a snowbank naked…” 

Ken leaned forward despite himself, concern awakening in the back of his mind. Could Ravi get hurt? That was a stupid question. It was pretty clear he could, if the alley incident was anything to go by. Was an impure orb the reason Ravi had collapsed on the concrete, incredibly sick and barely able to move? The novelty and wonder of Ravi’s secret was quickly wearing off. This could be dangerous. This could be deadly. How could they have Ravi’s without Ravi? Where would that leave Ken?

A touch to Ken’s hand jerked him from his quickly spiraling thoughts. 

“Are you okay?” Ravi asked gently. 

Ken blinked. “You’ll be careful, won’t you?” he blurted out. His mouth was out of control tonight.

“I always try to be careful,” Ravi assured his employee and friend, “I’ve only ever run into a few negative spheres, and they haven’t been that strong.”

“But something got you earlier,” Ken protested, “As careful as you supposedly are, I found you unconscious in a pukey alleyway!” He reached over and jabbed one of Ravi’s hands. 

Ravi grimaced. “Speaking of pukey alleyways, that was actually what I wanted to talk about next. Normally the pieces are pretty easy to purify, granted that it’s uncomfortable and not fun, but they let themselves be taken in by me. They’re not sentient, at least I didn’t think so until that particular incident.”

“What? What happened?” Ken felt like they were finally getting to the really relevant and important information. 

Ravi’s face contorted into a deep frown. “You know our Sunday regulars, right?”

Ken nodded. “The super cute couple, right? Taekwoon and Hakyeon?”

“Yeah, them. I walked by them yesterday, and something pretty nasty has attached itself to at least one of them. I don’t know if it’s related to the orbs, because this felt like a bad orb, but it was much more alive. It seemed to live in Hakyeon’s shadow, and it didn’t want to let go.”

“It didn’t want to let go? What does that mean?” If this meant what Ken was beginning to think it meant, both of them were in for a boatload of trouble in short order. 

“I could feel it when I tried to pin it down. It was so angry, bitter, and dark, and it didn’t want to let go. It stayed entrenched in Hakyeon’s shadow despite my best efforts, which is when you found me.”

Ken bit his lip, looking slightly uncomfortable. If Ravi had trouble with this thing, then what could he possibly do? Why was it sounding more and more like he and Ravi were going to be doing something about it? This wasn’t good for his heart. “Okay,” he said slowly, “Why am I important here?”

Ravi looked like he was fighting with himself, trying to decide if he would speak. Tormented was not a good look on Ravi and it pained Ken to see it. Finally, one side won and he finally spoke. “I’m going to find them and help them. They don’t really know what they’re dealing with. It’s dangerous, and honestly, they don’t stand a chance.”

Ken stared for a moment, processing that apparently their Sunday regulars were in mortal danger. “We don’t know where they live or anything. It’s not like a café is privy to that kind of information.”

“We?” Ravi commented. His eyebrows climbed toward his hairline.

Ken’s bottom lip quaked. “Uh, yeah, I guess?” he said, sounding incredibly unsure. “If our regulars are in trouble and we have the firepower to help them,” he gestured at Ravi, “then isn’t it sort of our duty to, I don’t know, save their asses?”

Ravi stared at Ken, unnerving the young barista. That’s what Ravi wanted, right? To ask for his help. But the guy was too afraid that Ken would say no. Or maybe he was afraid that Ken would say yes. “This is going to be dangerous, isn’t it?” Ken asked, completely devoid of any earlier humor. “This could be really bad.”

Ravi nodded reluctantly. “This could be really bad. I’m going in here blind, but I can’t just leave them alone. Because of what I am I have a duty to help them. Hell, even if I didn’t, I still would. They’re my regulars. They’re good people.”

Feelings were swirling in Ken’s chest. He was afraid, make no mistake, but he could feel a determination shining through. He may be young and he may be clumsy, but he could do his best to help out his friends in need. “So what’s the plan, boss?”

“I haven’t quite figured that out,” Ravi said. He ran his fingers through his hair again, purposely mussing it. “I wanted to do a quick sweep tonight. I think this creature’s pull is strong enough that I could feel it if was active. I know Taekwoon and Hakyeon live pretty close, even if I don’t know the exact location. They usually walk here. If I don’t feel anything tonight, I’ll see if they come in on Sunday morning and talk to them then. The problem is that I have no idea when this creature will make its final move.”

Ken nodded decisively. “I’m in. And don’t worry, we’ll save Hakyeon and Taekwoon.”

Ravi was surprised by Ken’s confidence, but it made him feel a little better about the daunting task ahead of them. “Well, let’s head out now and see if I can feel anything. The faster we stop this thing, the better off we’ll all be.”

Ken tried to look strong.

“Fighting!”


	10. Chapter 10

“For every dark there is a light, huh,” Hakyeon sighed. “I guess it’s nice to know that there’s still a speck of hope out there, somewhere.” Taekwoon nodded, glad that book was lending Hakyeon hope so their resolve stayed strong.

Hakyeon unexpectedly leaned forward, disturbing their nest-like arrangement on the couch. “I don’t think being out here is any better than being out there! I think we should go out there and keep looking for a solution, or by God die trying, because I can’t live cooped up like this forever.”

Hakyeon blew his bangs away from his face as he sat up.

An arm stretched across Hakyeon’s entire torso and grabbed his far shoulder. Grip firm, Taekwoon pushed him back into the couch, silently telling him to sit back and wait a minute.

"Hakyeon, I understand your frustration, but you can't go charging out there with no plan and no defense. It’s night. At least there are lights in here,” Taekwoon said, staying his husband with calm logic.

Hakyeon glared, but Taekwoon continued, unwilling to let him interrupt. "We're going to try every ritual in this book that seems like it might help us and if none of them work, then we can let your suicidal tendencies run wild. Understood?" He was using his teacher voice. Hakyeon hated when Taekwoon used his teacher voice on him; it made him feel like a young, scolded child.

Taekwoon removed his arm, giving Hakyeon the choice to get up and leave or stay put. Hakyeon grimaced. “I’m not going to sprint out the door, but let me stand up so we can get started on the solutions in this damn book.” 

Taekwoon watched his husband gently pry himself off the couch, hands still bandaged and tender. He followed Hakyeon’s example, extracting himself from the warmth of the couch, only to sneak up behind Hakyeon, who had his arms stretched over his head in a stretch. Taekwoon wrapped his arms around him waist, which startled him.

“Taekwoon?” Hakyeon asked, not bothering to turn and check on his husband. Taekwoon ignored him anyway and chose to nuzzle as much as he could into the junction of Hakyeon’s neck and shoulder, releasing a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a hum. Suddenly, Taekwoon realized that he really missed his chipper and slightly annoying Hakyeon. The lack of laugher flowing easily from the bright red-head had put Taekwoon in a slightly melancholic mood. He was acutely aware of how much he wanted to make Hakyeon laugh.

Pulling his arms out of the hug, he gently put his hands on Hakyeon’s waist and forced him to spin around and so they were face to face. Looking at Taekwoon’s furrowed eyebrows and pinched expression, Hakyeon wondered what else could possibly be going wrong now.

Taekwoon started to mercilessly wiggle his fingers, sending Hakyeon into uncontrollable laughter as his sensitive sides were tickled.

The ear achingly loud laughter continued until Hakyeon finally dropped his butt firmly to the ground with Taekwoon following, continuing to tickle relentlessly.

“S-stop!” Hakyeon managed to gasp out between his laughter, “Mercy, please!”

Taekwoon slowed down until his fingers stopped. He simply knelt above his husband, watching him attempt to return to his normal breathing rate. He slipped his arms around the small of Hakyeon’s back, holding him close and firm.

“I love you,” Taekwoon whispered into Hakyeon’s collarbone.

“I love you too, you meanie. Urgh, I smiled to hard, now my face is sore,” Hakyeon whined as he held what little of Taekwoon he could. He was careful not to hug too tightly so he wouldn’t accidentally strangle him.

They simply laid there for a moment, reveling in the closeness and tenderness of the moment. 

“I used to be afraid of the dark,” Taekwoon said quietly. “I remember waking up in the middle of the night, or maybe I just never got to sleep, but I was so scared.” Taekwoon readjusted his head slightly so he was slightly more comfortable. “I just felt like I knew there was a rabid monster under my bed, just waiting for me to dangle a leg down for it to snag, drag and eat me underneath the bed.”

Hakyeon gave a hum of acknowledgement, eyes closed. It wasn’t often that Taekwoon spoke this much, let alone about his memories from when he was a child. Hakeyon decided it would be best to just let him continue with the story.

“I gathered up my blankets and made a mad dash for my parents’ bedroom,” he continued, his voice quiet. “And when I burst in, my Dad was startled awake. I saw him sit up, and I started crying, saying that there were monsters under my bed and they were going to get me.”

“What did he do?”

“He opened up his arms and I ran to him, still so scared. As he hugged me he said, ‘Taekwoon, you are a big boy now, and you know that there are no monsters under your bed. We’ve checked before, and all you were scared of were the toys you hid under there earlier in the day.’” 

Hakyeon chuckled at the story. He knew that the kid version of cleaning their bedroom was usually shoving their stuff in random crevices and closets rather than actually putting anything away properly.

“He continued, saying, ‘I trust you to go back to bed and go to sleep, because you are bigger and stronger than any monster under your bed, anyway.’ He cracked a big smile, and started tickling me, just like I did to you.”

“Yeah, not appreciated, you traitor,” Hakeyon pouted. 

Taekwoon smiled a little as he resumed talking with a low voice, “He popped me back on my feet and marched back to my bedroom, and got in bed. It was then I decided that I wasn’t afraid of the dark and anything that could be lurking in it. That’s why I think we can beat this thing.”

Hakyeon squeezed Taekwoon and said, “Well, we better get started. No time like the present.”

Taekwoon released Hakyeon and stood up, stepped over to the couch, and reclaimed the dropped book. He flipped it open once again, stopping at a page in the middle. “I’ll start with something basic. It’s a spell to expel or hurt evil spirits.” Hakyeon returned to the couch and gave the universal “go ahead” gesture. Taekwoon stood awkwardly in the center of the room, the corner of the coffee table hovering less than an inch away from his knee. Another rhinestone detached from the cover and clinked onto the table top. Hakyeon stifled his nervous giggle. Taekwoon cleared his throat.

“If spirits threaten me in this place,  
Fight Water by Water and Fire by Fire,  
Banish their souls into nothingness,  
and remove their powers until the last trace.  
Let these evil beings flee,  
Through time and space.”

The room was silent. The lights held steady. Hakyeon’s breath rushed from his lungs; he’d been unaware he was holding it. Taekwoon slowly looked around, not sure what he was expecting, but hoping for some sort of visible result. “How are we supposed to know if it worked?” Hakyeon wondered, addressing the elephant in the room. Taekwoon would have replied, but was distracted by a dark spot blossoming on Hakyeon’s sharp cheekbone. 

Hakyeon’s expression twisted before he quickly slapped a hand to the area. “Ow! What the hell?”

The bruise was deep and dark, almost purple. It was mere seconds before Taekwoon felt a matching throb of pain on his own cheek. “It’s playing with us,” Hakyeon whispered, “It knows what we’re up to and it’s playing with us.”

Eyes fierce, Taekwoon snapped his attention back to Everything Dark and turned to the next potentially relevant spell. 

“In these names that are above all others,  
the name of the great lady and powerful Lord,” Taekwoon chanted,  
"I hunt by seed, flower and fruit of evil,  
I cast a spell on them with power and purity,  
Whether constrained by chains  
Or returned to darkness,  
They may never disturb the servants of the gods.”

He quickly sketched a rough pentagram into the air with his finger, imagining that the pentagram was made of a light that filled the room and purified it. Taekwoon bit his lip. The lights flickered once, sending Hakyeon scrambling for another flashlight. Tentatively, and with Taekwoon watching closely, he flicked on the large flashlight, holding it above his hand so his shadow was cast on the carpet in front of the couch. When his fingers wiggled, the shadow followed perfectly; no stretching to be seen. “It hasn’t fully manifested yet,” he said anxiously, looked up at Taekwoon. “We need to hurry.”

Taekwoon paged to their next bookmark: exorcisms. “Hakyeon, I’m not Christian. I don’t think an exorcism will work,” he commented, skimming over the instructions. 

Hakyeon scoffed, “Does it really matter at this point? Do it.”

Bookmarking the page with his thumb, Taekwoon scraped a small brass cross from the coffee table. They couple had found it in a box of keepsakes, a wedding gift from a particularly zealous Christian aunt. Taekwoon rolled his shoulders. “I don’t have any holy water.” 

“Taekwoon.”

“Alright.” He held the cross up to Hakyeon’s forehead. “Jesus, I ask that you cast out any and all evil spirits in, around, or attached to Hakyeon.”

The lights held steady. Hakyeon sank back into the couch. “That’s it?” 

Taekwoon glanced at the next two pages before flipping back. “Yeah. Other than converting to Christianity, dedicating our lives to Jesus, and prayer, that’s it.” 

“Well, that’s stup-” Hakyeon huffed, cut off by Taekwoon’s sudden flinch. The top part of the cross snapped off and fell to the carpet. Everything Dark and the rest of the cross tumbled from Taekwoon’s hands; the book thumped onto the coffee table and the pages visibly crumpled. Hakyeon lunged forward and pulled Taekwoon toward him so the man collapsed onto the couch. Taekwoon yanked up the left leg of his sweatpants to uncover his knee, which was turning purple and starting to swell. It was only when Hakyeon sat back down that the pain from his own knee registered. Instead of speaking, like he’d intended, Hakyeon emitted a choked cry and rocked forward, clutching his knee. 

Fumbling at the waist of his jeans, Hakyeon shucked them altogether, knowing he’d be unable to pull the leg up far enough to free his knee. Taekwoon helped him slide the jeans around the tender area and threw them onto the adjacent chair, leaving Hakyeon sitting in his pair of pink Hello Kitty boxers. 

“Oh God, that hurts,” Hakyeon moaned. “I can’t tell if it’s sprained, or what. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.” His hands hovered over the affected area, wanting to touch but knowing it would most likely make it worse. It wasn’t discolored and only slightly swollen. “Taekwoon…?” He turned in time to see his usually stoic husband wiping a glimmer of wetness from the corners of his eyes. “Taekwoon, are you okay?”

“I- th-think I mi-ight th-throw up,” he managed to stutter out, face sickly pale. Sweat was snaking down the side of his face. Ignoring the pain in his knee, Hakyeon flopped over the arm of the couch, snagged their small trash can with two fingers and hauled it up over the side. He shoved it toward Taekwoon, who clutched it in shaking hands, turned away, and threw up. Hakyeon gently patted his back in sympathy, hating that he couldn’t do anything to help. When he was finished, Taekwoon spat into the trashcan a final time and wiped his mouth with a tissue before setting the trashcan as far away as possible. 

The lantern on the table was still shining strong. Hakyeon righted the flashlight he had been holding and laid it on the arm of the couch, then leaned forward to snag the book from the table and smoothed its rumpled pages. He was starting to feel a little clammy himself. In fact, he wasn’t sure if it was just him, but the room seemed to be getting colder.

Gently, Hakyeon ran his fingers over the livid bruise that marred his face. “I don’t think anything in that book is going to work,” he reluctantly admitted, fear coloring his voice. “We’re just shouting bullshit poetry at this thing, and it doesn’t even care. It thinks we’re funny, that we’re stupid, fragile –” 

Taekwoon leaned forward and put his hand over Hakyeon’s mouth. His breath was hot and moist against the palm of his hand. Taekwoon looked incredibly serious, but then he almost always did. “We must believe, or we have nothing. No chance, no life, nothing. Believe with me or die with me.”

Hakyeon blinked, shocked. Almost without consciously realizing it, his right hand flew up and connected with Taekwoon’s cheek, the sharp noise of flesh on flesh loud in the otherwise quiet room. Taekwoon’s grave look disappeared, erased by his now disgruntled expression. 

“What the hell was that?” Hakyeon snapped. “Believe with me or die with me? Are we trapped in a low-budget drama starring some baby-faced pop singer?” 

Taekwoon couldn’t help but to smile a little.

“We’re going to live through this, you moron,” the redhead swore, even as broad cut opened over his eyebrow. Blood poured out, drenching the side of his face and dripping onto his pants. Droplets clung to Taekwoon’s chin, wobbling before splashing onto his shirt. The next pages of the book were smeared with blood.

“What’s next?” Hakyeon asked, working hard to conceal the agonizing pain radiating from his head. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. Hands shaking, Taekwoon reached for the book. Hakyeon carefully passed it over before grabbing the flashlight back from the arm of the couch and flipping it on. 

His shadow writhed. 

Taekwoon impatiently wiped the blood from his left eye and cheek, trying to clear his vision and make sure it didn’t run into his mouth. “One option left,” he stated tersely. “I need that candle,” Taekwoon added, motioning to the candle close to Hakyeon on the coffee table with a flick of his head. 

While Hakyeon was carefully bringing it to the couch, Taekwoon picked up a small bundle of brittle dried herbs and placed it in a bowl. They’d quickly picked them up during their book store excursion, not knowing if they’d need the dried herbs or even if they’d work. In order for the dark presence to be purified, at least according to their book, the herbs needed to be burned and the smoke spread over their bodies while both of them thought happy thoughts. It sounded ridiculous, but they had no other viable options. 

Watching the lip of the short candle to avoid spilling hot wax over the side, Hakyeon carefully brought it toward Taekwoon’s bowl of herbs. He held the sputtering flame to the shriveled leaves, watching to see when they caught. A bluish stream of smoke drifted toward the ceiling, coiling on itself slightly. Taekwoon gently fanned the bowl, helping it burn more quickly and light the rest of the plants while Hakyeon moved the candle away. 

The shadow from Hakyeon’s fingers, thin and flickering due to the candle, finally jerked free from his outline. With motions as quick as lightning, the thin tendrils wrapped around Hakyeon’s arm and jerked tight, sinking through his flesh and leaving gaping cuts in its wake. Hakyeon dropped the candle, which sent hot wax splattering across his legs, but his mind couldn’t even process the pain from the burn it was so preoccupied with the traumatic shock of his mauled arm. Within seconds, Hakyeon was screaming and it was over his own cry that he heard the sickening sound of two sets of bones snapping.

The bowl fell to the carpet, scattering smoldering herbs next to their feet. Thin wisps of smoke trailed up, caressing Taekwoon’s knee.

Hakyeon and Taekwoon’s arms were mangled, blood pooling on the carpet and streaked across the upholstery of the couch. When he thought he might have seen bone peeking from his arm, Hakyeon felt his head go light and fuzzy. 

***

“Shit, shit, shit,” Ravi repeated, each repetition louder than the last. Ken was running behind him, attempting to keep up with the dead run Ravi had broken into.

“What’s going on?” Ken yelped as he tried not to trip over the uneven concrete or run into a lamppost. 

“We’re running out of time!” Ravi didn’t turn his head toward Ken, choosing to yell out in front of him. “Whatever that thing is up to, it’s pissed!”

“What?” Ken choked out. “I thought this was a practice sweep. The big shit’s going on tonight?” The air was burning in Ken’s lungs. He felt a cold, creeping terror overcome him. He had agreed to help, of course, but when Ravi was describing it, the whole thing sounded much more abstract. Ken hadn’t expected anything to happen tonight, but those expectations were crushed when Ravi had broken out into a mad sprint a few minutes prior. Things were going to change tonight, he could feel it.

First, they had to find Taekwoon and Hakyeon’s house and Ken needed to tamp down the choking, cloying fear that had taken residence in his chest. Which house was theirs? “Which…house…is…theirs?” he bit out between pants. They were depending on Ravi’s “evil radar” to lead the way, and if tonight was really the night, then Hakyeon and Taekwoon’s lives were on the line. They couldn’t afford to screw this up.

Without warning, Ravi came to a shuddering halt. Ken was too close behind him and couldn’t stop quickly enough. Eyes wide, he plowed into his boss, sending them both crashing to the ground. Ken’s head bounced off the concrete, immediately starting a pounding beat inside his skull. Ravi managed to catch himself on his hands, but slid, skinning his palms and elbows. 

There was a second where both men were still. It felt like the whole street had inhaled and was holding its breath.

It exhaled. 

Ravi struggled to his feet, trying not to aggravate his stinging hands. “Are you alright?” he asked Ken, becoming more concerned when Ken put a hand to his forehead and pinched his eyes shut. “I’ll live,” the younger man mumbled, stumbling to his feet. “Which house is theirs? Can you tell?” He brushed the gravel from his hair.

Ravi spun is a quick circle, eyes closed. “We’re very close.” Ken could see that Ravi’s eyes were light up bright white behind his eyelids. After looking around one more time, Ravi set off at a run, leaving Ken to hurry after him, the thump of his feet in time with the pounding in his head. 

A short while later, Ravi jerked to the left, leaving the sidewalk and racing through the street toward a quaint house just on the other side. Ken almost tripped over himself trying to change directions and follow his boss, but managed to stay upright. 

The pair didn’t slow down as they got closer to the house. Ravi practically ran into the door, using his hands to help stop his headlong charge. He left blood was speckled across the dark wood. His hand flew to the doorknob and he prayed it was unlocked. 

A piercing scream ripped through the air, loud even through the door, and raised goose bumps across their arms. Practically ripping the door off its hinges in his haste, Ravi burst into the house. Ken was immediately behind him, face pale. He’d never dealt with anything like this before. He was just a barista! But he cared about Hakyeon and Taekwoon, and Ravi definitely needed someone to keep him out of trouble. He couldn’t turn back now.

They followed the gut wrenching sound of sobbing deeper into the house.


	11. Chapter 11

The front porch, entryway, kitchen, and hallway were all brightly lit with overhead lights, small portable lights, and candles. As the pair moved closer to living room, the light grew dimmer. It was almost as if incredibly thin, black, gauzy veils, so thin as to be indistinguishable from another and without beginning or end, were hanging from the ceiling and absorbing all the light. As the house grew darker, Ravi and Ken also felt cold leeching in from the floor, ceiling, and walls. The front of the house was chilly, but the hallway that led to the living room was downright freezing. “Dang,” Ken forced out between chattering teeth, rubbing his hands together, “Why is it so cold in here?”

“I think the creature is pulling energy from as many sources as possible, including the heat from the air. Don’t ask me how that works; I don’t know,” Ravi whispered, motioning Ken forward. 

Ravi and Ken finally stood at the threshold into the living room and stared in wonder. The room was dark, lit by a struggling lantern and the light of the moon. The shadows in the room were sharp and black with an uncanny depth that suggested they were more than mere shadows. Thin tendrils connected each shadow, be it cast by furniture or a person, to a pulsing black mass in the center of the room. While the other shadows were straight-edged and looked sharp enough to cut, the form in the center had visible texture, like dark, pulpy tar constantly spilling over and being reabsorbed after it splattered on the floor.

Taekwoon and Hakyeon were on the couch, faces not quite visible in the dim light. Hakyeon was sobbing loudly despite his previous efforts to somehow hide his pain, and looked to be cradling his cut and obviously broken arm with his entire body. His one somewhat healthy hand was stretched out to grasp at Taekwoon, who also had silent tears slipping down his face as he dealt with an eerily similar unnaturally bent arm. Their breath was visible, puffing out in small white clouds.

Ken froze in place, not knowing what to do. All of the blood and the tears in front of him, not to mention the horrifying creature that had caused it all, rendered him speechless. He had no idea what he could do to help when faced with such bloody mayhem.

“Hakyeon, Taekwoon!” Ravi barked, “I’m here to help you.” 

Both men looked up at Ravi through twisted expressions.

“What the hell are you waiting for?” Hakyeon yelled in response, coughing through his tears. 

The shadow was not shy, stretching and whipping around the two men. Ravi felt the blood drain from his face, nausea overtaking him now that he was near the shadow creature once again. 

The creature pulled away from Hakyeon and Taekwoon, swelling and shooting toward Ravi. He was swatted away as if he were nothing but a pesky fly and landed hard on his shoulder with a solid thud that knocked the air from him lungs. Not satisfied, the shadow stretched into thin tendrils once again, soundless but lethal. It aimed to cut Ravi down for good, but despite being winded and on his back, he wasn’t done yet. 

Ravi struggled to sit up. “Hey!” he hollered to make sure that the creature focused on him. Though the creature had no face, they could tell that it leaned toward Ravi. The café owner wasn’t just waiting for the shadow to kill him; his arm began to glow, appearing to burn from the inside out. Eventually his arm was sheathed in bright light that was strong enough to fill the room. 

Taekwoon and Hakyeon watched, drowsy with pain and blinking rapidly to prevent blood from getting into their eyes as Ravi deflected the shadow’s attacks. Each deflected strike sent a sharpened shadow flying into the floor, walls, and ceiling, where they gouged out large chunks of plaster and wood and left streaks of black tar-like ichor dripping from the walls. Ravi’s other arm burned with light as he fought the furious creature. The monster attempted to slice Ravi in half or remove his head from his body, splitting into more and more tendrils every time it failed. Even as it made stabs at Ravi’s back, Ravi’s torso began to glow a dark, fleshy red underneath his shirt that quickly brightened to white.

Hakyeon held on to Taekwoon for dear life as he watched as what seemed to be the essences of dark and light tried to destroy each other in his once-lovely living room. His life had quickly spun out of his control and this was the climax; the fate of him and his husband rested in the hands of a café owner and his part time barista. 

I’m not going to die, Hakyeon promised himself. I will live through this. Hakyeon repeated this mantra in his head, adding Taekwoon is going to live after the first few repetitions. On the fifth Taekwoon is going to live, Hakyeon’s head fell back onto the couch cushions; unconsciousness had finally spirited him away from his pain.

During this fight, Ken was not idle. When Ravi’s arm became the equivalent of a lightsaber, he made a bee-line toward the crumpled, blood-spattered book that had fallen to the carpet. 

He sifted through the pages quickly but thoroughly, lips pressed into a thin line, jaw tense, and brows furrowed. Ken’s hands were shaking as he passed by some of the more ridiculous spells and things that clearly didn’t pertain to the freaky anime fight going on in the other side of the room. 

“There’s gotta be something useful in this damn book!” he muttered to himself. Ken was dangerously close to hyperventilating and he was shaking so hard from the intense cold that he could barely turn the pages. The book had to have an answer. There was no way whatever power in charge would screw them over so completely. Taking a calming breath and consciously ignoring the shouting and crashes from the struggle with the dark creature, Ken flipped back to the book’s introduction and read it as slowly and carefully as he dared. Three-quarters of the way down the page, a sentence caught his eye. 

“Please, please, please, let this be helpful,” Ken whispered desperately.

If you find yourself being troubled or assaulted by a spirit, first find the object on which the spirit is fixated. This could technically be a house, an object, or a person. Once this is determined, you’ll be ready to exorcise the spirit. In most cases, destroying the object of attachment is enough to make the spirit leave. If this does not work, please try a ritual from Chapter 6: Exorcisms and Removing Troublesome Spirits…

“Ravi!” Ken shouted unthinkingly. Immediately, three heads and one creature of darkness turned toward him. “Um, in order to get rid of it we need to destroy what it’s anchored to,” he rushed out in a single breath. There was a short pause before everything erupted into chaos again.

Tentacles slipped around Ravi, ignored Hakyeon and Taekwoon, and flew toward Ken. The young barista had enough time to yell, “Oh, crap!” before the thing was on him.

Ravi’s heart dropped into his stomach the second he realized that Ken was the monster’s new target. While he was very grateful for the man’s help, he’d never intended for him to be put in danger. Ken was helping from the goodness of his heart, and was just being dragged along into Ravi’s crazy world. Ravi would do everything in his power to make sure that he didn’t get hurt. “Ken!” Ravi shouted, leaping over a fallen lamp toward the far side of the room. 

Ken stumbled backward, one arm held in front of him in a futile attempt to protect himself from the advancing creature. He could suddenly see his breath fog as soon as it left his mouth and nose; the creature was fully focused on him. The cold stole the strength from his limbs and made him clumsier than usual. The black mass was shifting between shapes and textures, all of them icy cold, pitch black, and wet, and flicking out thin, whip-like tendrils that left ruler-straight cuts littered across his chest, hands, arms, and face. The only remaining source of light, the lantern, was flickering madly.

A shout redirected the thing’s attention once again. In one more fit of pique toward Ken, the creature easily lifted a sturdy wooden end table and threw it at the cowering, bleeding Ken with much force. He couldn’t dodge it completely, but managed to deflect part of the table with his shoulder, which pushed him into the doorframe. To Ken’s pained surprise, the table actually shattered, sending large, ice-covererd splinters of wood flying. Ken dropped to the floor, dazed, and lifted a hand to cradle his aching head. Is something wet? he though dizzily. Trembling fingers rubbed together, something warm and wet easing the slide. That was when the sharp pain began radiating from his cheek and forehead. Oh, shit. A crash made him slowly refocus his eyes on his friends. Ravi!

Ravi saw Ken go down in a shower of jagged wooden splinters and blood. Hands sheathed in glowing white light, he reached toward the creature, grasped the back of it, and pulled. It thrashed in his grip, hissing as Ravi’s light sizzled in every place they touched. The nausea and freezing temperatures returned full force, leaving Ravi feeling his entire front was burning, but he refused to let go.

“Hakyeon! Taekwoon! What’s this thing’s anchor?” Ravi practically howled.

“I don’t know!” Taekwoon gritted out from a few feet away on the couch. He was tending to a bruised, bettered, and unconscious Hakyeon, despite having a matching broken arm.

“Find out quick or we’re all dead!” Ravi snapped. “Do you remember anything weird happening before all the injuries started?” The creature had reabsorbed all of its tentacles and was working on extracting itself from Ravi’s burning grip. Ravi could feel heat being sucked from his body. Even the light of his arms was dimming slightly, stolen by the gurgling mass in his arms. Splashes of mushy blackness, the texture of things soft and rotting, splashed on his arms and coated his front, fighting to cover his light where they touched. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Taekwoon cried. His thoughts were racing, but the more he thought, the more his mind went blank until he was left with nothing but think of something, think, think, think of something. He gently shook Hakyeon. Surely he would be able to think of it. “Hakyeon, wake up. Please wake up.”

The thing lurched and writhed against Ravi’s chest, trying to rip itself from the solid grip. It quivered and pulled, forcing Ravi to step forward to remain standing. Leaning backward, he retaliated with a vicious yank, stretching the shadowy mass away from the two men on the couch.

Hakyeon let out a yelp of pain as he was brutally jerked from the realm of unconsciousness. Taekwoon narrowly dodged Hakyeon’s head as the man sat up quickly. His hands were clenched tightly, knuckles white on the fabric that covered his heart.

Taekwoon wiped away some of the blood that ran down Hakyeon’s face.

“My heart,” Hakyeon whispered, eyes blank and unseeing. “There’s something wrong with my heart.”

Taekwoon quickly remembered a similar phrase slipping from Hakyeon’s lips month ago. Before any of this had started, before any shared wounds or clumsiness, Hakyeon and Taekwoon experienced flickering lights and a pain in Hakyeon’s chest at his sister’s wedding reception. Taekwoon’s eyes widened and he whispered quietly, “His heart.”

“It’s rooted in Hakyeon’s heart!” Ken yelled to Ravi from his fallen position on the floor. 

The shadow froze for a brief moment, completely stopping all motion just as the last words were spoken aloud. The sudden stillness alarmed Ravi. The creature was sure to make its move now that they had figured out where it was rooted. Readjusting his arms, Ravi did all he could to retain his grip around the bulk of the writhing creature. His internal glow was still trying to warm him, but the creature was as cold as death. 

Ravi thought fast as it doubled in its efforts to escape from him. It tried its best to hack and slash through Ravi’s arms and chest. Ken had valiantly given the information that they had to destroy the thing’s roots. Do we have to destroy Hakyeon’s heart?

“Ken!” he yelled across the room, “We have to destroy Hakyeon’s heart!”

Taekwoon was no idiot. He had come to the same conclusion at the same time as Ravi. He looked at his husband and his mind replayed over and over that they would have to destroy the root.

“No,” Taekwoon whispered, “Please, no.” His face was twisted in agony as he gazed at his drowsy partner. “I can’t lose him.”

“You’re both dead if this doesn’t happen.” Ken had recovered from the battering he received and tiptoed closer to the injured couple. “Hell, we all are.”

In a daze, Taekwoon adjusted the best he could while sitting beneath Hakyeon with his injured knee and useless arms. He faced Ken and fixed a vicious glare on the barista. “You will not touch him,” he said forcefully. Blood was still oozing from the spiral wound on his arm and the cuts on his face, but he gripped Hakyeon’s good hand protectively as if he expected Ken to make a mad leap for Hakyeon and rip out his heart with his bare hands.

Ken frowned. He was on edge, pumped full of adrenaline and not quite sure what to do. “If what Hakyeon says is right, we really don’t have much of a choice.” He glanced over at Ravi and the struggling creature. Ravi’s face was drenched with sweat and spattered with ugly black spots, and it looked like he was quickly losing his grip. “We need to do something now! Ravi can’t hold it, and ultimately, it’s up to Hakyeon to decide.” 

Taekwoon immediately turned to Hakyeon, leaving Ken to stumble into the kitchen without being noticed.

“Hakyeon,” he breathed, the usually stoic Taekwoon looking crushed with emotion. “You can’t do this. I won’t let you die.” His husband was sitting against Taekwoon’s chest. Hakyeon could feel Taekwoon’s racing heartbeat on his back. Though his thoughts were hazy, the pain of his injuries had become distant, only sharpening when he accidentally jostled his arm.

I’m in shock, Hakyeon thought, but I can’t let Taekwoon, or Ken and Ravi die like this, not if I’m the reason this creature is attacking them. “I love you, Taekwoon,” Hakyeon said, loud enough for all the occupants of the room to hear him.

That’s when the whispers started. The temperature, which had already plummeted, fell further. The men had already been able to see their breath, but now frost crackled across the windows. Ravi hissed as the renewed chill seeped into his hands and forearms, numbing them despite their bright glow. He could feel ice creep up his chest and over his neck. His bright core was cooling.

Soft but urgent whispers, like an old radio crooning from another room, floated from the corners of the living room, carried by deep shadows. The words couldn’t quite be understood, but the voices, high and childlike, grew closer as the darkness slid toward the center of the room and the struggling creature. The room was already dark, the lights having given up long ago, but these shadows were impenetrable, making it appear as if the living room was fading from existence a little at a time.

“Ken!” Hakyeon called weakly, attempting to inject at least a modicum of strength into his voice. Taekwoon’s attention was redirected to the barista, who was anxiously clutching a long, rather thin kitchen knife with both hands. Anger immediately washed through Taekwoon and he tensed, which sent a wave of sharp pain through his lacerated and shattered arm. Ken would kill Hakyeon. This man would help take away the most important person in Taekwoon’s life, the person who made him whole.

It was almost impossible to believe that only a month ago, their biggest concern had been getting up in time to have breakfast before work and making sure his lesson plans were on schedule. Now, Hakyeon was facing a painful death via kitchen knife, and the owner of a local coffee shop was wrestling with a force of darkness in their living room.

Ken shuffled toward them, gingerly stepped around the corner of the coffee table and crushing the remains of the burned herbs beneath his shoed feet. Taekwoon leaned back and pulled Hakyeon away as Ken drew closer, but seeing as the pair was nestled into the couch, there was nowhere for them to go. Hakyeon carefully pulled his good wrist from Taekwoon’s restraining grip. Ken couldn’t tear his eyes away from Hakyeon’s reaching hand. His hands were caked with blood, the red substance dried under his nails and across the back of his hand.

The whispers grew louder. “…me…”

“leave…me…”

“….you…never!...” they cried, louder and louder, small snatches finally becoming coherent words.

Ken’s hands were numb. Hakyeon pulled the knife from his trembling grip and haltingly flipped it around in his one good hand so the blade was aimed at himself. Taekwoon, who had been frozen in denial and shock, finally regained his senses at the sight of a sharp blade resting against the thin fabric of his husband’s t-shirt, right over his heart.

“No!” Ravi cried as the thing finally extracted itself from his grip. It exploded toward the group of three men by the couch. Ravi fell to his knees, light fading. Shadows crept toward his feet, dragging the childlike whispers along with them.

“…never again…”

With sharp, frenzied motions, the dark creature twisted itself into a smaller shape that came only to Ken’s waist.

“Hakyeon,” Ken whimpered. He was crying again. “We need to finish it.” He barely bothered to glance at the thing reforming beside them.

All Taekwoon could hear was roaring in his ears. “No, Hakyeon. Don’t to it. Don’t leave me like this.” He wasn’t sure if his inability to breathe was due to his compounded injuries or the magnitude of what Hakyeon intended to do. Hakyeon’s stupid smiling face was the only thing that could make Taekwoon truly happy, and he felt like he would be trapped in darkness without it.

“I’m sorry, Taekwoon, but I have to. I’ll always love you,” Hakyeon replied, voice trembling. He truly did not want to die, in fact, the thought of death scared him out of his wits. He’d be leaving Taekwoon behind to mope around the house, work on his lesson plans all night without stopping, and generally be miserable. In fact, without Hakyeon there to bother Taekwoon, the man might never speak again. 

Would he die instantly when the knife entered his heart? Or would he suffer through the pain for a while, watching Taekwoon’s heart break? Well, I guess I’ll find out, Hakyeon thought. He took comfort in Taekwoon’s forehead resting against the back of his head and the gentle thump of his heartbeat against his back. “I’m so sorry, Taekwoon,” Hakyeon said one final time as he prepared to thrust the knife into his heart.

“NO!” the creature roared. The windows, which had been completely iced over, shattered, sending shards of ice and glass tumbling to the carpet. Cool night air entered the empty window frames, pushed along by a slight breeze. It diluted the think tang of blood in the room.

When the creature cried its rage, the whispered voices shrieked with it. Hakyeon froze in place, unable to move the hand with the knife. 

On the other side of the room, Ravi was almost completely overtaken by shadows. His eyes were lifted to the ceiling. The shadows reached his neck, black creeping through his veins and spiderwebbing on his jaw and cheeks. The rest of his body was merging with the creeping darkness that grew toward the center of the room, and the eyes that had once burned with a pure white light were now bottomless black pools that spilled down his cheeks. With Ravi’s body nearly indistinguishable from the shadows, it seemed like his light was permanently out.

“You cannot stop me,” the creature growled gutturally. It was mere inches from Hakyeon and had calmed into a more definitive shape.

“Taekwoon?” Hakyeon choked. His nightmare had returned.

The creature was in the form of a small boy. Every hair was defined, as well as its facial features and its small, clenched fists. It looked enraged, barely able to keep small tendrils from whipping around agitatedly. 

Taekwoon’s mouth dropped open; he was at a complete loss for words. Ken was shocked to see such a cruel creature in the form of a small boy, but he didn’t understand why Hakyeon and Taekwoon looked so shaken.

That’s when he noticed Ravi’s predicament. It looked like he wasn’t breathing. “Dammit, Ravi!” the man exclaimed, breaking away from the creature. He had to get to Ravi, and the creature was much too occupied with Hakyeon and Taekwoon to bother with a small fry like him. His head was still pounding, and the gouge across his cheek and forehead were still merrily stinging. 

As soon as Ken reached Ravi, he dropped to his knees so they were at eye level. “Can you hear me?” the barista asked desperately. He gripped Ravi’s shoulders in some sort of attempt to snap his boss out of it. Ravi’s eyes still looked sightless and his lips were turning black. 

“Ah!” Ken yelped, yanking his hands back. The deep shadows that had reached Ravi’s mouth slid over Ken’s fingers. Ken held his hands in front of his face, turning them in the dim light. It looked like his fingers were dipped in matte black paint and it was dripping down to streak across his palms and the backs of his hands. 

“Shit.”

“You left me! You threw me away!”

Taekwoon had no idea what the damn thing was talking about, but it seemed to be directed at him. There was, however, something oddly familiar about its appearance…

“Taekwoon,” Hakyeon hissed, “It looks just like you did when you were a kid! I’m positive…your mom showed me her photo albums again when we visited for the wedding.”

“That’s right,” the creature chuckled darkly. Shadows like thick, black sludge dripped from its mouth as it spoke, splattering across the carpet and quivering before crawling back toward the creature’s dark feet to be reabsorbed. Ice crept up the legs of the coffee table and couch, and only spread more quickly as the thing’s anger grew. 

Taekwoon took a deep breath. “What do you mean I left you? What are you?” he asked urgently, glancing at Hakyeon’s good hand, which still held the knife. If Hakyeon was distracted by the creature, Taekwoon might be able to pull the knife from his grip before the red-headed man could hurt himself. 

Unfortunately, Taekwoon’s words only served to further anger their aggressor. With a short flick, it sent a whip of shadow at Hakyeon, cutting his neck. The wound instantly appeared on Taekwoon’s neck, but the man refused to flinch. In fact, his overtaxed body couldn’t process more pain; it was on the verge of giving up. It was a miracle that Hakyeon and Taekwoon were still conscious. 

“You left me behind. You grew up without me, Taekwoon. You didn’t need me anymore!” it spat.

“What are you?” Taekwoon desperately demanded, almost out of his mind with grief and misery.

“I AM YOU!” it shrieked, finally unable to hold a stable form. It erupted into a thrashing black column that slammed into the ceiling, ripping through the plaster and sending a shower of dust into the air. 

Ken tried to wipe the dark streaks from his hands, mind scrambled. The blackness only spread further and Ravi wasn’t coming to. At this rate, Ravi would be dead in minutes and Ken would die of hypothermia or end up an empty husk, completely drained of life. The creature must be trying to suck energy from us. But Ravi’s not human; he’s kind of like pure energy. What will happen to him? Ken couldn’t help but to wonder. Maybe he can hold on longer. C’mon Ravi, stay with me! 

The monster’s angered roar drew Ken’s attention to the frightening conversation happening on the far side of the room. Something in his mind clicked. “I am you…” What could that mean? Wait. This thing is a part of Taekwoon that got left behind during childhood? It sounds exactly like what Ravi was just telling me about. If we weaken it, I wonder if Ravi can absorb it. He twisted around and managed to catch Hakyeon’s eye right before the creature exploded into a raging column. He knew what his next move had to be.

“I’ll be right back,” Ken promised Ravi. His heart was thudding uncontrollably in his chest and he felt queasy, but Ken knew he was the only one who could end this. Shivering from the bone aching cold that was spreading up his arms, he stumbled back toward the couch, wiping his freezing hands on his pants. 

Before he could reach Hakyeon and Taekwoon, the thing lashed out, batting him away. Ken crashed into the wall and fell to the floor, body crunching into the shattered glass from the windows. He laid there for a second, dazed. He saw the creature grab Hakyeon’s hands and throat. The man screamed as he was pulled to his feet. His injured knee gave out, but that just put more pressure on his broken arm. Taekwoon feebly reached for his husband, but didn’t have the strength. 

A small face emerged from the writhing column, inches from Hakyeon’s own. “You will be left behind,” it snarled, speckling Hakyeon’s face with black flecks, “destined for death just as I was so long ago.” The face of the little boy twisted and broke apart, jagged laughter echoing from its dissolving mouth. Hakyeon lifted the knife an inch, trying to slip from the shadow’s hold.

“Not. So. Fast.”

The snap of bone pierced through the noise in the room, accompanied by Hakyeon and Taekwoon’s pained shouts. The knife fell to the carpet.

With a cry, Ken leapt forward and slammed a sharp piece of glass through Hakyeon’s back and straight into his heart. The red-headed man’s back arched in agony before he went limp.

Ken fell back, panting. Both his and Hakyeon’s blood was smeared across the glass. His fingers were sliced to the bone and twitching involuntarily. I’ll probably never use this hand again, he thought hysterically. 

The creature howled. It threw Hakyeon’s body to the floor and surged toward a shocked and anguished Taekwoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is one chapter left! Hang in there and thanks for reading :)


	12. Chapter 12

“Hakyeon,” Ken choked out, crawling to his friend’s body. Not caring about his mangled hands, he fumbled to pull the deadly piece of glass from his back. “I’m so sorry. Oh my God, what did I do? Oh my God.” A full-blown panic attack swamped his mind, numbing more than the shadows that now covered him from thigh to neck. The glass was slick and warm, but he managed to remove it. Blood gushed from the wound, drenching Ken’s hands and knees.

Though tears were dripping down his cheeks, Taekwoon glared at the creature that had essentially caused his husband’s death. More quickly than Taekwoon could follow, the creature gave up on its whip-like tendrils and instead formed two strong arm-like projections that grabbed Taekwoon by the neck and pulled him from the couch. 

“I wanted to be the one to kill your fragile boyfriend,” it hissed, “but your supposed friend did it for me. I’ve decided that instead of killing you quickly, I want to savor your pain the way I haven’t been able to these last twenty years.” With every word, the creature’s grip grew tighter and it lifted Taekwoon higher into the air. The man was kicking feebly, unable to claw at the vice around his neck. He knew that soon death would claim him and perhaps he would be reunited with Hakyeon, but he didn’t want to die. He had to survive for Hakyeon, his family, Ken and Ravi, and himself. 

“Why?” Taekwoon managed to force out.

“WHY?” the corrupted part of Taekwoon raged. “WHY? ‘I don’t believe in monsters anymore,’ you said. I was that childlike willingness to believe, and you threw me away! I grew, though, I waited. I found you again. Now do you fear the darkness? Now do you believe? Look what I’ve become!” It shook Taewoon, who flopped like a rag doll. “LOOK WHAT YOU’VE TURNED ME INTO!” it shrieked. 

Ken was blinking rapidly, trying to clear the tears from his eyes. Hakyeon’s hands were motionless between his numb ones. “Ravi,” Ken called, but it was only loud enough for him to hear. He coughed wetly, smearing more blood across his face. “Ravi! Please fix this. Please!” Ken wailed. He tried not to look at the jagged hole in Hakyeon’s back. 

Ravi was cold and numb, senses choked off by an encompassing darkness that reminded him too much of his very early days of existence. That had been a dark and lonely time for him and was not something he’d like to repeat. To his surprise and pleasure, the aching cold disappeared an instant later. He blinked. 

The supernatural coffee shop owner took in the sight of a crumpled Hakyeon and devastated Ken by the back wall, and Taekwoon being smothered by the mutated piece of himself that had been shucked when he was a child. The fact that the shadows swallowing Ravi had disappeared coupled with the apparent death of Hakyeon meant that the creature’s root, Hakyeon’s heart, had been destroyed. The creature was likely severely weakened, especially since Ravi couldn’t be used as an energy source anymore, and was using the last of its strength to finish Taekwoon off. 

Pushing himself to his feet was difficult, but Ravi forced his cramping muscles to cooperate. With a muttered curse, he stumbled toward the asphyxiating Taekwoon. Ken’s desperate call for help was another shot of adrenaline giving him the necessary energy to stagger across the room. When he stood directly behind the twisting column of anger, Ravi took a deep breath. His hands began to glow anew. He blinked deliberately, and the black-choked brown of his irises drained away, leaving only bright white in their place. The flesh of his arms paled, becoming almost translucent as light poured from beneath the skin. 

Grimacing, Ravi thrust his arm through the pillar of shadow, unconcerned by the loud sizzling that erupted at the contact. The creature flickered and screeched, immediately dropping Taekwoon to the couch and turning on Ravi. His light brightened and warmed the entire room. The silhouettes of the fallen Ken and Hakyeon stretched across the back wall, sliding as Ravi’s light grew.

With a grunt, Ravi wrenched his arm to the right, partially severing the top and bottom halves of the creature. Now that his arms were free, Ravi could spread them and twist them in a circle. This wrenched the shadowy creature from the floor, forcing it to follow Ravi’s motions and curl on itself into a pulsing black sphere. 

“No!” it cried, voice breaking into countless childlike whispers like spiders scuttling across the walls. “I won’t be left behind again!”

The orb stretched, trying to break form, but Ravi’s hands were resting on the top and bottom, trapping it.

“We’re not leaving you behind,” Ravi replied,” I’ll be taking care of you.” The light from his hands made the black sphere look smaller, unthreatening. How appearances could deceive. Ravi took one steadying breath before he brought the orb to his chest and began to push it into his body. The veins in his neck and arms flashed black, visible despite his continued glow. 

Instead of becoming cold, Ravi’s hands began to burn as his light compensated for the amount of power it took to purify the most hateful orb he’d even encountered. 

With a triumphant cry, Ravi shoved the orb fully into his chest. The light beneath his skin and in his eyes shined bright like a beacon before the glow began to fade. 

Taekwoon was collapsed on the couch, definitely in shock, with silent tears tracking down his cheeks. Ken was still kneeling above a motionless and bloodied Hakyeon. The coffee table was tipped on its side, and the carpet was littered with melting ice, shards of glass, and wood splinters of various sizes. To top it off, there was blood everywhere: on the couch, drying in pools on the carpet, smeared across the walls, and spattered over every single one of them.

Ken looked up. The shadow creature was gone. The room was brighter. Ravi won! But Hakyeon was still… he looked back to the battered redhead. There was no way to bring the dead back to life, which meant that he was a murderer. He couldn’t bear to look at Hakyeon any longer and turned away, sobbing uncontrollably.

Ravi’s glow was almost extinguished and his body was cooling. He sighed in relief, more grateful than he could express that everything was over. Ravi stepped forward, intending to go to Ken and Hakyeon, when his chest started to feel warm again. Confused, he looked down and held up his hands. The glow that had almost disappeared was quickly coming back, glowing brighter than it ever had before.

“What…?” Ken mouthed, squinting. Then he remembered his conversation with Ravi from earlier that day. Like a hit of magical cocaine. Right. Ravi had seemed to stress that he got some sort of energy boost from absorbing the orbs, so taking in and purifying such a large and powerful orb would most likely give the café owner a surge of energy like he’d never had before. 

Every vein in Ravi’s body brightened, glowing white through his skin. Earlier, the flesh of his arms glowed pink, like a flashlight had been switched on inside him, but now, his whole body was lighting up.

Ravi took a step toward Ken and Hakyeon, body quaking. “Bring Hakyeon closer,” he said through gritted teeth. Unable to be shocked any further, Ken quickly complied. Pivoting on his knees, he gently hauled Hakyeon’s upper body in Ravi’s direction. His head wound was making it difficult to see, particularly since the blood was encrusted on his eyelid and around his eyes.

Taekwoon finally snapped from his shocked stupor by movement near his beloved husband. Snarling, he stumbled toward the slowly approaching Ravi. He wouldn’t let anyone else touch Hakyeon; the damage had been done and all he wanted to do was mourn in peace.

Determined to stop Ravi, who was much less human than Taekwoon ever expected, Taekwoon reached for his shoulder. Surprisingly, Ravi warded the desperate man off with one hand, deflecting Taekwoon’s grab and forcing him to take a step back. At Ravi’s touch, Taekwoon felt a brief flash of pain before every ache and pain disappeared. Am I dead? he wondered, that being the only possible explanation for the abrupt cessation of physical pain.

Ravi dropped to his knees next to Ken and Hakyeon. The power within him was overwhelming; it tried to force its way from his body and he could barely rein it in. One glowing hand reached toward Hakyeon and gently rested on his head, resulting in a bright flash that blinded everyone in the room. 

Feeling much better and still completely undeterred, Taekwoon toppled off the couch and crawled toward Hakyeon, the man he loved. He wasn’t sure how he’d continue living without the light of his life. Sanghyuk was going to be so upset, Taekwoon thought nonsensically. His parents would be so disappointed. Hakyeon would never surprise him with hot chocolate again. The house was going to be so empty, so dark. He wouldn’t be living, just existing, Taekwoon thought with conviction. He wouldn’t be living.

Taekwoon glared at Ken, and the devastated barista tumbled backward, desperate to get out of the man’s way. Taekwoon reached for his husband’s blood-soaked body, hands trembling uncontrollably. He would remember this moment for the rest of his life; it was seared into his mind as if branded. Hakyeon’s chest arched into the air and his body shook. The red-headed man, who had been most surely dead seconds ago, gasped and started coughing, clearing drying blood from his throat. 

“Hakyeon!” Taekwoon all but sobbed, pulling the man from the floor and into his arms. Taekwoon ran his arms over every inch of his husband’s body in a desperate search for injuries. While Hakyeon was caked in drying blood, the hole in his back was completely gone, as well as the broken arm, sprained knee, broken wrist, and cut over his eye. He was in perfect health.

“Taekwoon?” A voice said questioningly, muffled by Taekwoon’s shoulder.

Taekwoon pulled Hakyeon back so he could see and speak. “It’s me,” he replied tearfully. “You’re here and I’m okay. You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive!” Taekwoon chanted desperately. Hakyeon was shoved into his chest again, unable to get a word out. 

Ken, who was just as shocked as Taekwoon by Hakyeon’s sudden resurrection, stared at the reunited couple. His attention was diverted by Ravi, who toppled over, right into the puddle of blood from Hakyeon’s back wound. 

“Ravi!” 

He reached out to cushion the man’s landing, briefly startled by the weak flash that resulted from the contact. Ken immediately noticed that his headache and the pain from his gouged face faded to nothing.

It only took a second for Ravi to come to. His glow had completely gone out, leaving the room in darkness. Leaving one arm wrapped around Hakyeon, Taekwoon used the other snatch a flashlight and flick it on. The dim light allowed the four men to finally see each other completely.

“Is everyone okay?” Ravi croaked, sitting up.

Hakyeon pushed away from Taekwoon’s chest so he could breathe. “I’m okay somehow. What the hell happened?” Prying his arm from Taekwoon’s iron hold, Hakyeon turned around so he could sit between Taekwoon’s spread legs, chest to back. Taekwoon wrapped his arms tightly around his husband and rested his chin on his head. “And how are our injuries healed?” he added, hacking up some more blood.

Ken helped prop Ravi up. He noticed that while his injuries were healed, Ravi’s bruises were simply a shade lighter and his cuts had scabbed, not disappeared. His boss was probably still hurting, not to mention the stress his body must have felt when trying to channel so much energy.

“That creature,” Ravi started, “was a part of Taekwoon that he left behind as a child.” He could see Taekwoon tense and his arms tighten around the somewhat bewildered Hakyeon. “It’s nothing you did, Taekwoon, really, I mean that. When people grow and change, they grow out of certain traits. These get left behind in the form of a white orb.”

Taekwoon frowned. “But that orb you absorbed was pitch black.” He was finally getting his shaking under control, and trying to have a normal conversation was doing wonders for his state of mind. It almost managed to take his mind off the fact that Hakyeon had been dead minutes before. Dead. Completely dead. He held Hakyeon tighter. 

“Yeah,” Ravi sighed, rubbing an exhausted hand through his hair. “It’s something that I run into occasionally. Sometimes when the orbs are left, they mutate and grow corrupted. This is the worst one I’ve ever run into. It was able to connect to Hakyeon somehow.” He shook his head, “It should be gone for good, though.”

Hakyeon still didn’t look satisfied. “What happened to me?”

The room fell silent. The flashlight tottered on the carpet as the breeze picked up. In a flurry of movement, Ken was on his feet and staggering to the bathroom. The sound of retching was audible in the living room. Ravi looked pained, but it was Taekwoon who finally spoke.

“Ken killed you. He stabbed you with a big piece of glass and you died instantly.” It felt like the creature was choking him all over again. 

Hakyeon looked crushed, but his next words surprised the other two men. “That poor guy,” Hakyeon lamented, “That’s probably going to haunt him for the rest of his life.” With a quiet word to Taekwoon and only a minor struggle, Hakyeon removed himself from Taekwoon’s grip and slowly padded to the bathroom and its sickened occupant.

Silence returned to the living room. Taekwoon didn’t say anything, but Ravi nodded to him, knowing the man was thanking him all the same. Ravi couldn’t help but to chuckle a little. “God, I never want to do that again.” He flopped backwards, lying spread eagle on the trashed carpet. “Jesus… I need a shower.”

The pair in the living room gave Hakyeon and Ken a good half hour to talk before they interrupted them. Ravi couldn’t stand the itch of drying blood anymore, and he wanted to talk to Ken anyway. Hakyeon invited Ravi and Ken to use their shower so they could clean up.

As soon as the bathroom door shut behind Hakyeon, Ravi turned to Ken. “Clothes off,” he ordered. Ken’s face was blotchy and red from crying and his face was caked in blood. He stared at Ravi for a few seconds before he tugged at his shirt. While he was busy with that, Ravi twisted the shower knobs on and adjusted the temperature to just shy of painfully hot.

When Ravi stepped back, he saw Ken hide his naked self behind a towel. He gestured to the shower. “Get in.”

Ken gave him the side-eye, but dropped the towel and scurried into the steamy shower.

Ravi tilted his head, thinking hard. He briefly smiled at the sound of Ken knocking his elbow into a shelf, but the expression quickly withered. Mind made up, he dropped his pants, stripped his shirt off, and stepped into the shower.

The steam and heat of the water was relaxing on Ravi’s skin, and Ken’s surprised yelp was highly amusing. The barista stopped scrubbing at the blood encrusted on his face to stare at Ravi.

“Ravi! What are you doing?” Ken demanded, scandalized. His face was beet red, only partially from the heat.

Ravi kept his voice low and calm. “Taking care of you. You’re one of my only friends, and we just went through a traumatizing shit storm. I don’t want to leave you by yourself right now.” He wiped a stripe of runny blood from Ken’s forehead, paused, and ran his thumb over the area again. “Dammit,” he muttered, which immediately drew Ken’s interest.

“What? What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling Ravi’s hand away from his face.

Ravi slumped a little, running his hands through his damp hair. Ken was standing under the spray, so Ravi hadn’t gotten too wet. “The energy I absorbed let me heal through touch. Probably has something to do with the transfer of energy.” His hands dropped to his sides. “I was able to completely heal Taekwoon and even Hakyeon somehow, but by the time you grabbed me, there wasn’t enough juice left…” His hand returned to Ken’s face as if magnetized, and his fingers traced the raised scar that tracked up Ken’s cheek, skipped his eye, and continued on his forehead up to his hairline.

Ken’s fingers followed Ravi’s, feeling the line that marred his face. He was silent for a long while.

“At least I’m alive,” he said finally. That’s when Ken broke. His eyes shut as his face crumpled and he could only distinguish his tears from the water by their salty tang as they dripped into his mouth.

This was what Ravi had been waiting for. He cupped the back of Ken’s head with a gentle hand and pulled it forward, resting Ken’s forehead on his collarbone. Ken’s arms hung motionless by his sides as he leaned into Ravi and sobbed.

I killed someone, Ken thought, I actually killed a person with my own hands. His blood was all over me. I killed him. I’m a murderer.

Ravi carded his hand through Ken’s hair, gently working at the knots and clumps of dried blood. “Hakyeon is okay. He’s alive and well. He doesn’t blame you, Ken,” he murmured.

“That’s… what… Hakyeon… said,” Ken stuttered into Ravi’s chest, voice barely audible over the sound of the water pounding against the walls of the shower.

“See?” Ravi continued gently, “Hakyeon doesn’t blame you. You’ll get through this. Pretty soon it’ll be me and you at the coffee shop, where your biggest worry will be dropping my dishes.”

Ken laughed wetly and half-heartedly punched Ravi in the chest.

“Here,” Ravi said. He didn’t want Ken to dwell on the subject. He tipped Ken away from his chest and back into the direct path of the hot water. “Let me help you get cleaned up and then we’ll go from there.”

Hakyeon grunted as he and Taekwoon lifted the coffee table and turned it upright. Small shards of glass crunched beneath the table legs. Hakyeon dusted his hands and surveyed the room. “We’re going to need to replace the carpet,” he commented. He scrutinized the largest puddle of blood, which was still wet in the middle. Hakyeon shuddered, having a hard time believing that all of that blood came from is body. Taekwoon must have picked up on his discomfort, because he came up behind Hakyeon and wrapped his arms around him.

Hakyeon leaned back into Taekwoon, comforted despite the fact that Taekwoon hadn’t said anything. “What’s up with our lives? We’re going to need therapy after this.” Taekwoon shook his head and pressed his nose into the crook of Hakyeon’s neck, content to feel the throb of his pulse.

“I can’t believe Ravi healed us,” Hakyeon added. “What is he?” The question went unanswered in the silent room. He sighed. “I’ll go grab those two some clean clothes that will hopefully fit.” Taekwoon nodded and released his husband though it made him slightly nervous to let Hakyeon out of his sight. 

After Hakyeon disappeared toward their bedroom, flipping on every light as he went, Taekwoon continued to straighten the living room. He collected the large pieces of bloodied glass, knowing he’d need to vacuum to pick up the tiny shards hiding in the carpet. He also stacked the remains of the end table into a neat pile so it would be easy to toss in the trash.

Their living room looked like a war zone. Hakyeon had been dead fifteen minutes ago, but he was fine now, Taekwoon assured himself. They’d have many more happy and slightly frustrating years together before he’d have to worry about either of them dying. And if Hakyeon came home with a cut or bruise that didn’t have a perfectly logical explanation, rest assured he’d call Ravi in a split second and have him do his light voodoo to take care of the problem. 

Voices echoed from down the hall. Hakyeon must have dropped off the clothes and the other two men were probably done with the shower. 

Hakyeon emerged from the hall first, still looking a state: covered in blood, hair spiked at ridiculous angles, shirt torn, and Hello Kitty boxers making a valiant effort to cheer up the room. Ken and Ravi followed closely behind, still damp, but clean and mostly intact. Taekwoon’s eyes were drawn to the few scars that mottled Ken’s previously untouched skin and Ravi’s collection of scabs and bruises, but didn’t comment. 

Once everyone was in the living room, Ravi coughed slightly to gain their attention. “I know this is your house,” he addressed Hakyeon and Taekwoon, “but you two should go shower. We’ll work on cleaning up a bit more, then I really think everyone should spend the night at my place.” The coffee shop owner looked rather concerned. “I know it would make me feel better if everyone was away from this,” he gestured to the destroyed room, “and under my protection.”

Ken scooted a little closer to Ravi, nodding. Taekwoon also nodded decisively. There were clearly forces in the world that he could not defeat or protect Hakyeon from, and he’d be damned if he knowingly put Hakyeon in danger. If Ravi, whatever the hell he was, was strong enough to protect them, then he’d be a fool to refuse his help.

Hakyeon dragged Taekwoon off to their bedroom for a change of clothes, leaving Ravi and Ken alone in the living room. “Well,” Ravi said, surveying the wreckage, “Let’s get started.”

 

Epilogue: One year later

“Two medium Mexican hot chocolates are ready!” a voice called from behind a fully-stocked shelf of imported coffee. 

“I’m not getting up and walking over there!” Hakyeon hollered back, “Bring it to me. We’re the only people in here.”

They could hear the pout in Ken’s voice from across the room. “It’s after hours and I’m not getting paid for this, you jerk.”

He wasn’t prepared for his freaky ninja voodoo boss to sneak up behind him, so was shocked when Ravi’s voice sounded right in his ear. “I’ll take one of the mugs out.”

The empty coffee shop echoed with the sound of shattering ceramic and Hakyeon’s cackling laughter. 

After he caught his breath, Hakyeon turned to see Taekwoon’s slightly disapproving glare. He giggled and tapped Taekwoon’s nose in retaliation.

Ravi, kind man that he was, volunteered to sweep up the broken cup while Ken delivered Taekwoon and Hakyeon’s hot chocolates and made his and Ravi’s drinks. Ken drank sugary concoctions that usually involved caramel, whipped cream, and sprinkles. Ravi, on the other hand, preferred the homey and comforting taste of chai tea. 

A few minutes later, the four men were seated around a table tucked into the corner of Ravi’s, warm drinks in hand. 

“Oh. We finally got that last painting we ordered for the living room. Taekwoon’s gonna hang it tomorrow, and then we’ll finally be done remodeling.” Taekwoon nodded, smiling slightly. Due to their limited funds, replacing the ruined and destroyed furnishings in their front room had taken quite a while, but it was a labor of love. It turned out that Hakyeon like nothing more than skipping through a furniture store and trying out all of their couches. 

“What’s the painting of again?” Ken asked. “I don’t remember.” He tipped back in his chair, feet carefully hooked on the bottom to balance his weight. 

“Don’t tip in my chairs,” Ravi admonished, pushing the back of Ken’s head so he slammed back onto four legs. 

Ken scowled. “I own half of Ravi’s now, you know. So technically they’re my chairs too.” He kicked back again, shooting Ravi a challenging stare. 

Ravi chuckled a little before taking a sip of his tea. “Sometimes I wonder why I made the offer in the first place. Ah, past mistakes,” he lamented. 

“Anyway,” Hakyeon cut in, “The painting is by a local artist. It’s of…uh, Taekwoon, what would you even call it?” He passed the question to his stoic husband.

“A small Hello Kitty collage.”

Ken burst out laughing and his chair tipped too far backward. “Ah!” he yelped, heart rate already skyrocketing. Ravi quickly snatched the back of his chair and yanked it forward so it was sitting safely on four legs yet again. 

“Woo, thanks boss,” Ken gasped. “Er, co-owner…buddy.” Ravi glared at him. “Yeah,” Ken continued, “I keep calling you boss on accident…yeah, I’ll stop talking now…”

To everyone’s surprise, Taekwoon couldn’t contain himself. His quiet, repressed chuckles grew into true laughter. Embarrassed but unable to regain control, Taekwoon covered his reddening face with his hands and slumped over to rest his head on Hakyeon’s shoulder. 

“So…” Hakyeon began again, patting Taekwoon on the head. “The living room is done, which is a huge relief. We haven’t had any trouble with it.”

Ravi and Ken quickly glanced at each other knowingly. Ken’s fingers absentmindedly traced the scar on his cheek, a habit he’d picked up since that night. 

“Alright, Taekwoon, control yourself,” Hakyeon said fondly, poking his husband in the head. He pulled Taekwoon’s left hand from his face and squeezed it with his own. When their rings touched, the small diamonds embedded in the metal bands flashed faintly, filled with the light of Ravi’s power. 

The mood sobered a little as each of the four men remembered the horrible ordeal they’d faced just over a year ago. Not wishing to dwell on it, Ravi gulped down the rest of his tea and set the mug on the table a little harder than warranted. “Those rings will protect you two, I promise you that. Ken and I are looking after you, so you don’t have to worry about it.” He smiled warmly. “Though I don’t know how Ken’s talent for dropping my plates would be helpful.”

“Hey!” Ken protested while Hakyeon and Taekwoon laughed.

Ravi smiled at his group of friends and basked in their warmth and laughter. “One more drink on the house before I kick you lot out.” He stood to make himself another tea and was quickly overwhelmed by three more mugs being thrust in his direction. Rolling his eyes, he gathered them up and padded to the counter.

“Ken, get back here and help me!”

“But I’m not getting paid!”

THE END 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading, leaving comments, and giving kudos! It really makes writing and sharing with everyone worth it. We have one more story in the works, with two more planned out, so look forward to more writing from us :)


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